The Power of Magic and Elves
by Serafin982
Summary: A tortured Harry has won his war but lost everyone he cared for. Magic isn't through with him yet though and sends him on a journey to Middle Earth. HPLOTR crossover. Hiatus: Rewrite pending.
1. The Winner of War

The Power of Magic

A/N: I haven't abondoned Chronicles but this wanted to be written too. No worries I have the next chapter of chronicles almost ready to go. I loved lord of the rings before I ever picked up a Harry Potter book and read the trilogy once a year at least. I know these crossovers have been done before and much of the included isn't new. I could probably list a half dozen stories that are some similar in some aspect but this is my version. Enjoy and if you find something that looks like your story than know that I probably read it and it stuck in my head enough to make it here. As such I own nothing about this story and fully acknowledge that many authors have contributed inspiration. My Thanks to you and enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Winner of War

Harry jerkily lifted his splinted leg over one of the countless pieces of rock strewn about the courtyard. It was always dark here now. Dark and raining. Harry wasn't complaining, the atmosphere matched his mood. Surprising really, since he had finally managed to complete the task his Mentor had set for him years ago. It was a good thing that 'the power the dark lord knows not' wasn't love. Harry had little love left. He couldn't remember what it felt like to see Mrs. Weasley's face welcoming him to the Burrow or Ron and Hermione smiling at him and offering to help him till the end. No the power the dark lord knew not found Harry after months of torture at the Dark Lord's hand. Well, his hand and the Death Eaters. Between them Harry was rarely left alone in his 'room' otherwise known as a 6 foot square stone box. No, the power Voldemort never knew was the power of the light despite the darkness. It was the power of not giving in to the Dark despite having no hope, no love and way to survive. It was the power of true magic. A magic that wasn't put into a spell but allowed to roam free to act of its own accord to serve the purpose it was called upon in any way it wished. It still had left Harry broken and bloody. A tortured soul, who despite the destruction of his sworn enemy still had no hope and no way to survive.

Water dripped from a piece of the ceiling and splashed in the pool accumulating in a worn track along the stone floor of the old second floor corridor. Harry's only thought had been to return home. But home was a dismal hulk, the charred and ruined remains of Hogwarts School. The giants had done most of the damage to the building but it was the dementors and Death Eaters that had destroyed the school just weeks into what would have been Harry's seventh year.

Harry had been out horcrux hunting. He had a hunch that one of Voldemort's horcruxes could be found in the old orphanage that Tom Riddle had grown up in before coming to Hogwarts and had dragged Hermione and Ron from the school to check it out. He had been right too. Hufflepuff's cup sat is an old cupboard in room 7b on the second floor of St. Mary's orphanage. The cup was in the same cupboard that Dumbledore had lit on fire to prove to Riddle that magic existed. Perhaps that was why Riddle had chosen it.

After disposing of the cup the trio returned just in time to see the dementors leaving the school. It was a massacre, there wasn't a soul left inside of Hogwarts. The lucky ones had died.

The war had gone downhill quickly after that. Ginny had died at the school with the rest of the DA. Neville had led them. Tonks and Kingsley had been at Grimmauld place when it was finally found and attacked. They had held it alone for 11 minutes before succumbing to the dozen death eaters attacking it. Hermione was next. She died defending Ron who had gone down to a well placed cutting curse. Both of them had been just outside of the room while Harry dealt with Nagini. Remus died in his werewolf form but not before proving that he had mastered it. Fenrir Greyback was hunting Harry and Ron. The werewolf leapt out to attack when a figure flew over a fallen Ron to slam into Greyback. Moony rescued them that night but couldn't survive the attack against the werewolf that had turned him. At least he took Greyback with him. Harry had transfigured his body back to human form for the burial. Remus wouldn't have wanted to be remembered in that form. The Burrow and Diagon Alley had been attacked on Christmas Day. Hogmeade was damaged and by the time the horcruxes were all found it was just Harry and Ron left from the old Order of the Phoenix. Ron was killed by Bellatrix one night before he was captured. Harry only found out how it happened when Bellatrix started to taunt him after his capture. She had found him alone at Hermione's grave.

"Hello Albus" Harry said, realizing his feet had taken him to the Headmaster's office. It was one of the few places in the school still intact. McGonagall hadn't had the heart to change it much in the few weeks she had been Headmistress. "He's gone, I'm done."

"Congratulations Harry. I knew you could do it." Albus said.

Harry was too tired and hurt to point out that killing Voldemort hadn't really accomplished much. There was no one left. Sure the foreign wizards from America would now feel safe enough to come in and mop up the Death Eaters and the economy would slowly rebuild itself. Harry himself had nothing left to fight other than an overwhelming sense of paranoia and fear. The side effects of torture. Everyone he knew and cared for was gone. And everyone left had seen him as a hero when he was a child. What would they see him as now? Some sort of demi-god probably. Blind sheep.

"I'm leaving Albus. Would you like to be left somewhere else?" Harry asked the portrait of his old professor. He had long ago stopped being angry with Albus Dumbledore. He hadn't forgotten what the man had done but he just didn't have the energy or time to waste being angry at a dead man whose portrait had still been capable of giving some useful information.

"Where will go, Harry? Why don't you take me with you?" Albus said looking carefully at Harry's worn face and numerous injuries. He had taken the time to splint his broken leg but his arm still hung limp at his side. His shirt was torn and his wet cloak left deep open slashes in his flesh and his blood exposed to the air.

"You wouldn't want to follow me Albus. I'm going to disappear and you've always liked to help shape the future. I'll send a note and someone will find a place for you. Maybe you can tell them about a wonderful School in Scotland that taught young witches and wizards about magic. Tell them the stories of students waiting for that first letter and their trip across the lake. Tell them about the faces of those children when they first see a magical castle lit by candle light in the night. Talk about the ghosts and poltergeist the castle held. Remind them of the pranks and the laughter they caused. Talk about the friendships and Quidditch and the gamekeeper's love of dangerous creatures that only he could love. He even hatched a baby dragon in his wooden hut. Norbert he named him." Harry was unaware that he was babbling now and that Dumbledore's face was becoming more concerned as he got more lost in memories. But at least they were memories of a happier time that didn't include pain and Death Eaters

Harry disappeared to a small guest room just off the Headmaster's suite. Dumbledore had told him about it not long after the fall of Hogwarts when Harry stumbled into the office. Harry threw himself on the bed that was quickly becoming moldy from the constant moisture in the air. What would he do tomorrow?

Morning came despite his lack of a plan. He meant what he'd told Dumbledore though. He was leaving. There was too much pain and despair in the Wizarding world or maybe it was just in him. The Wizarding world would rebuild itself as wizards came out of hiding from their fear and returned to the country they fled. The Wizarding world as it had been, and would be again, could only lead to another Dark Lord's rising. There was too much hate, fear and prejudice for peace to reign for long. But he was tired and it wasn't going to be him who changed the Wizarding world.

"Tell me about the Potter estate Albus. There has to be some little cottage somewhere out in the country that no one will find or bother me at." He directed towards the portrait.

"If there is, I don't know of it. But there is a safe-house out on the Devon coast. There aren't roads to get to it and most of the land is rocky and barren." Albus started.

"Perfect." Harry interrupted. The idea of being alone where no one would come calling was the only thing that appealed to him right now. "Where is it and how do I get there?"

"Harry, rest for awhile. You're injured Harry. Take care of yourself first and then think about where you want to go from here. You're free Harry. You can live now." Albus said, concerned that his one-time student would self-destruct if left alone.

"I'll never live, Albus. Not here. I'll be jumping at shadows and dark robes until the memories are gone. And they'll never be gone Albus." Harry said with a shudder trying to free his mind of the months of hopeless torture. "And soon they'll come here. I can't be found. I'm not their hero anymore. Better they think I died." He said glancing around as if a crowd would soon appear to capture him and put him on display somewhere, no doubt in a stone cell.

A last tour around the school to say goodbye was Harry's next task. He walked. He saw Gryffindors coming into the school just after winning a quidditch match. They were talking and joking and laughing and wondering just how the Butterbeer always appeared in the common room after winning games when everyone knew you could only get it in Hogsmead. There were Ravenclaws moving in small groups of twos and threes to the library to look up some fact. Hermione looked interested in their conversation. Ron was more interested in looking smug with the knowledge of the secret tunnels and the twin's current activity.

'_Scaroow' _The booming noise echoed and the illusion faded completely into pain and hands grabbing him. They didn't use the cruciatus curse anymore. They didn't want him insane that quickly. They tore strips of his skin from his back and pressed burning metal into his legs instead.

A nudge to his face by a cold bone-colored beak broke him out his second set of imaginings. He slowly uncurled from the ball he had become on the ground looking wildly around as the images faded leaving only the pain he had come with the day before.

"Hello Cera." Cera was a griffin cub Harry had found in the Forbidden Forest. An odd find in any forest as they preferred the mountains and plains. She was only a few weeks old when Harry found her, by his best guess. But griffins are famous for not trusting or coming into contact with humans. Cera had stayed annoyingly close. She was now a young adolescent about the size of a very large dog or small pony, and was currently checking over every inch of Harry to make sure it was him. Harry hadn't seen Cera since before he'd been captured.

The ghosts, real and imaged, were gone from the halls of Hogwarts and it was time to leave. Harry had sent a note with an owl found just a few trees into the Forest so someone would claim the portrait. Holding Cera close, he apperated out of Hogwarts.

He appeared at coordinates Albus had given him and for a second mourned the loss of Hogwarts magic. What would Hermione say? He had just apperated out of Hogwarts.

It was a rocky terrain not suitable for most life but some greenery stuck up between the rocks and the heartiest plants had cracked through them. The cottage wasn't more than a hunting cabin but it would do. Harry wasn't under any delusions that he would live here long. He was injured. He had a broken leg, numerous cracked ribs, and a broken arm. He was covered in bleeding wounds. A few wounds had closed but most had not. He hadn't eaten in days. The Death Eaters always offered him food. But it came with a price. Killing a muggle without magic would get him a full meal. He vowed never to eat such a thing. He contented himself with the slice of bread he could get for twenty minutes of silent torture. His silence that is and if he made a sound they started over again. The Dursleys had been good training for this.

He entered the cottage and gingerly lay down on a dusty sofa. Cera whimpered next to him as if sensing Harry's intent to give up and die here. The griffin would at least be at home in the terrain. She would find game to hunt. She would surely offer to share it right now if she thought he would eat but Harry would be content to never eat again the memories associated with food weren't conducive to an appetite.

Harry wasn't sure how long he had lain there or how many times he had screamed in his sleep. It was dark outside and Cera was on the floor munching on some dead rodent. Harry hoped it was a ferret. The rat was already dead at Voldemort's hand.

For a moment he wondered what had woken him and then he felt it. It was magic, his magic. It was wrapping around him and through him and he just relaxed. It could whatever it wished and he gave it no direction or purpose. It kept building in intensity. A small part of him wondered what it would do. Had magic ever been like this for anyone else? He didn't think so.

Harry closed his eyes. He was still bleeding though much less than he had been. He was tired and weak and the magic would do what it would without him to witness it. The last thing he felt was Cera standing to move next to him and trying her best to wake him.

* * *


	2. Discoveries

The Power of Magic

A/N: I own nothing you read here. My thanks for the many sources of inspiration.

Chapter 2: Discoveries

There were birds singing. There was grass and dead leaves under his head and damp earth. He opened his eyes to find himself staring upwards at a canopy of colorful trees under a blue sky. The breeze stirred the leaves and a few fell floating on currents to the ground. It was calm and peaceful. The light that came through the falling leaves left a spotted pattern on the ground. It would a good place to die not that Harry was picky. He was a little curious as to why his magic would bring him here to die.

Cera was next to him still. Odd, she seemed taller than he last remembered. But then he hadn't seen her in awhile and he was lying on his back on the ground. Some of his wounds had closed but he was far from healed and his leg and arm were still broken and splinted. Maybe he should get up and look around a bit. Cera positioned herself to be able to support his weight to help him up.

Shit. Cera wasn't taller. He was shorter, a lot shorter. He had been unhappy with the measly 5'6" of his adult height. Doesn't magic have a wonderful sense of humor? He thought he might be 4 feet tall now. He was very glad Cera was here. As much as he had given up he wasn't thrilled with the idea of being attacked by some creature living in this forest. He wandered a bit, shuffling his feet through the dead leaves and underbrush, and clutching Cera's feathers and leaning on her back when his strength waned or his leg wobbled despite the splint he had cast on it. The trees were thinning indicating a clearing ahead and mountains in the distance. Harry could hear water spilling over rocks and lapping at the shores. He and Cera made their way to the waterside. Cera bent her neck to drink and Harry glanced into the water to cup his good hand to drink. He leapt back startled at his reflection. He looked like a kid. He was short, as he had previously discovered and his features had become more refined in bone but softer with youth. He still retained the gaunt and hollowed look that torture and starvation had given him. But his ears… that was the worst of it. They were pointed. Despite the Dursley's distaste for imagination even they would know what sort of human-like beings had pointed ears. Somehow he was an elf. Oh, not a house-elf but a fair-skinned, pointy eared, emerald eyed elf. Now, he knew he hadn't given that magic any direction but this was too much. Magic, even uncontrolled magic didn't just go about changing full grown wizards into young elves. How could this happen? The shock was wearing on him; even now his emerald eyes were dimming and becoming cloudy and grey. The transformation from human to elf hadn't increased his energy. Quite the opposite, the amount of magic he must have used was catching up with him. His leg wouldn't support him anymore and the pain of his injuries left him shivering and curling into his cloak on the ground beside the stalks of water plants.

"What's this?" A voice penetrated his groggy mind and instinct had him immediately curling tighter and protecting his head from whatever pain this new torturer might inflict. He lay shaking and trying not to whimper. He was too weak to move let alone call on his magic now. If he still had a wand maybe he could do something but his wand had been lost to him even before his capture. He lay still hoping Cera would come before he sustained too many more injuries. How the mighty had fallen.

"What are you? A child? A hobbit?" he asked quietly not expecting an answer from the terrified being before him. "Are you hurt?" he asked quietly hoping to get some response, any response.

Harry couldn't understand what the man was saying. He could just barely see him through the side of his hood that had fallen over his head. It was a man, a human that is. What did humans think of elves? He couldn't remember ever hearing of an opinion or even of the existence of elves that weren't house-elves. For now he would stay quiet, keep his head covered and pray the man would move away.

His prayers weren't to be answered though and Cera wasn't coming. She must be off hunting somewhere. Thankfully the man had not picked up where Voldemort's Death Eaters had left off. Harry still didn't trust he wouldn't do so. He could feel the pain of that cell and his bones breaking as half-drunken Death Eaters threw spells at him. Skin peeling off his back from a curse he had never heard before and wouldn't stop hearing now. The burns on his legs ached freshly. He whimpered.

"I will help you if you'll let me." The man spoke. The phantom pain disappeared and Harry gasped on the air sending new and very real pain crashing through him from his ribs. It was an endless cycle. He used his one good leg to push himself backwards towards the base of a tree. He hood and cloak still covered him. It had shrunk somewhat on the journey here but it still looked to be made for someone half a foot taller than he was. However, the man could now see some of his face. The sun was beginning to set, it would dark soon.

"I'll camp with you tonight if you don't mind. This place will make a good site. My name is Aragorn." He still couldn't understand the man. Though what he meant was easy enough to determine as the man began unloading from a pack he had been carrying. The man was planning to stay with him.

"What's your name child?"

Harry could only stare blankly in return. He was watching every move the man made willing him not to get any closer. This was the reason he chosen that remote cabin. It was remote. No one would come to hurt him or lay more expectations on him.

"Can you understand me?" the man asked him something again. He seemed to figure out that Harry could not understand whatever language he was speaking.

"Can you understand now?" The man changed the language he was speaking, it had a deeper and clipped tone to it but it didn't help Harry at all and Harry was unwilling to speak first. The man tried several other languages none of which Harry understood. Now Harry was a little worried. Where had his magic taken him when a man who could obviously speak many languages wouldn't have come across English?

"That's all the tongues of man that I know of little one." The man paused looking at Harry with concern. "Come you must be hungry."

The man gestured to the food he pulling out of a pack. He set about making a fire and once it was hot enough heated some pieces of salted meat over the flames. He placed the meat and some bread on two plates and picked one up.

Harry could smell food cooking. There were muggles on the floor in front of him, a family of three. He could have the food if he killed them. He hadn't eaten in four days. Still he turned his back refusing to kill them. They died anyway and the scent of blood mixed with the smell of food. They offered him a slice of bread. All he had to do was stay silent while they broke the bones in his foot. He bit his lip and stayed quiet.

"Here, eat."

The man was holding a plate of meat and bread out in front of him. Harry eyes widened and turned his head toward the tree he was facing, silently crying now.

The man was genuinely confused. He left the food beside Harry and moved back to the fire to watch. The Death Eaters had tried this too. The pain would always come and they would laugh at his attempts to shield himself from it. Harry shifted further from the food.

"It's alright. Eat child." The man said worn a concerned expression and moved slowly as if regarding a wild animal.

Harry needed food. He knew it. He would die soon without it and despite his plan to do just that, dying of starvation would be painful and slow. He wounds had almost stopped bleeding. Rest and water would recover the blood he had lost eventually but without food he wouldn't last much longer.

His eyes pinned on the man for any sign of movement or disapproval Harry's hand snaked out to grab the bread from the plate. The man had watched but made no motion or sign that he cared about the food. Harry wouldn't go so far as to take the meat though. Perhaps Cera would bring back whatever she caught and the man would leave the fire wood.

A rustle in the trees to the man's right grabbed both their attention. The man unsheathed a sword and stood. A large grey beak emerged from the bush. The man's eyes widened and he moved into a defensive stance. "Cera!" Harry called out. The griffin had finally come back. The man looked quickly from Harry to the large animal the likes of which he had never seen before.

"Is this a friend of yours?" The man said hopefully. Harry could hear confusion and anxiety in the man's voice and couldn't blame him. The man had probably never heard of a griffin before and now had one looking him over like an odd smelling piece of meat or a worse: a threat. Cera had come to place herself between Harry and the man and was snarling in her own way to keep him away. Harry was glad for Cera's protection but the man hadn't done anything to harm him yet.

"Come Cera." Harry was surprised at his own voice. He didn't recognize what he had said but knew what it meant. Somewhere along the line he had picked up another language. It didn't even feel magical like parseltongue did after he learned to recognize it. Cera looked at him with her head cocked to one side as if to say 'what did you just say'. She seemed to understand anyway and came over to lie down next to him.

"Sindarin" The man whispered to himself. "Hello, little one."

Harry's head jerked up to look at the man. This was the same language he had spoken, and he could understand this. He wasn't sure if he should be frighten or reassured that he could now understand the man. It would mean the man would expect him to speak. He placed a hand on Cera's neck. The griffin had found food. There were bits of hair among the feathers.

"Eat the food, child." The man paused to watch Harry but Harry made no move towards the meat. He had eaten the bread and his stomach wasn't settled from that. But he was hungry. The voices of Death Eater assaulted him again. Cera lifted her head to nudge his good arm.

"It's alright child. I won't harm you." The voices hushed again. Harry glanced at the food and turned wary eyes on the man. This would be the most he'd eaten in months. He grabbed the meat and ate it quickly. The man smiled.

Surprisingly, the man made no effort at conversation. He sat on the ground beside the fire and smoked on a pipe he had unearthed from his pack. Harry dosed beside Cera knowing she would watch for attacks not that he could do much if they were attacked.

* * *

Aragorn was surprised to meet anyone on this path. It was far from the well traveled Greenway and generally used by the rangers and those whose knowledge of the area was extensive. The hobbits wouldn't venture this far and the closest human settlement was Bree and its neighbors. Where had the child come from? He certainly wasn't well. He had the gaunt appearance and cloudy eyes of one who had known a lot of pain and suffering and very little food. Yet the child was extremely reluctant to eat. The child didn't react as though Aragorn might take the food back but as if the idea of food was repulsive. Aragorn wondered what could have happened to cause that reaction. 

And the creature that he had called to, 'Cera', the child called it. Just what was this half bird half beast? Whatever it was, it was a predator. It was certainly powerful. It also seemed young in the way a half grown horse is overconfident of its long legs. Its cream color would probably turn gold as it aged. Perhaps the child had found it somewhere and they had bonded closely. The creature seemed willing to protect the child.

Aragorn wondered what to do with the child. Where were his parents? Probably dead. No living parent would allow their child to become like this. He would have to find out where the child was from and return him to his kin.

That the child spoke in the elfin tongue was also curious. What human would teach that to a child? Aragorn looked from his pipe to study the child resting against a tree. His clothes were torn and seemed of an odd make. He wore a dark colored robe and cloak but they weren't elfin in appearance so it was doubtful that the elves had raised him as they had Aragorn. He somehow doubted the child would tell him where he was from. Perhaps he would take the child to Bree it was the most likely place for him.

The creature, Cera, was moving beside the child. The creature sat up and rubbed the side of its head against the sleeping child as if to wake him for some purpose. The hood of his cloak fell away.

Aragorn gasped staring at the refined features and pointed ears characteristic of the elves. An elfling? Aragorn had lived among the elves long enough to know the value they placed on their young the care they gave them. Such a long lived race had few children. The young were prized beyond any riches and guarded zealously. As such, no human had ever seen one and they were closely watched and cared for by all the elves they came across. Aragorn had never seen one either but had heard many stories. Elrohir had once told him about the disappearance of his twin brother when they were elflings. Elladan had wandered off into the woods surrounding Imladris because Elrohir had told him that a white stag lived in the forest and would grant a wish to anyone who caught it. Elrohir reported that half of Imladris was emptied in the search including Elrond who went to look for his son. Elrohir had felt a bit shameful for having instigated the whole misadventure especially after the worry that permeated Imladris was Elladan was found ill. While the elves were an immortal race immune to illness and fatigue, elflings were not. Elrond and the healers of Imladris had watched Elladan for a week with bated breath praying his fever had broken for good and the young elf would regain the strength it had stolen from him.

How had the elves allowed an elfling to come to this? But this elfling was a mystery in his very existence. As far as Aragorn knew the last elfling was born more than five-hundred years ago. The birth of an elfling was a cause for celebration amongst all elves. The rangers still tell stories of the only event to steal the twins of Elrond from their revenge against the orcs. Elladan and Elrohir had left the orc hunting party when word reached them of the expected birth of the last elfling born on Middle Earth. The twins had been gone for several years guarding the new elf and celebrating with kin.

But this was definitely an elfling. How had he come to be in such a state? He hadn't been to Rivendell in a few years but the disappearance of an elfling would have reached his ears if only to be watchful for him.

Elrond and Rivendell were the closest of the Elvin homes. He would take the elfling there and perhaps meet with Elrohir and Elladan on the way. They were planning to meet at their father's home soon. In the mean time he would have to get the elfling to trust him enough take him anywhere and to tend to whatever wounds and injuries he had. Aragorn could tell his leg was injured and his ribs had hurt him earlier. Perhaps his injuries would give him a better idea of what the elfling had gone through.

For now he would rest and watch for the night. The orcs had been moving about lately and he had come this way to see how far they had spread. He hadn't found anything more than a few scouts which were quickly killed. He wasn't overly worried; the orcs had always been pests and were only very dangerous in greater numbers.

* * *

A/N: Have a comment, suggestion, idea? Think Harry should die and end the fic now? And if you don't think he should die I need a name for him. I just can't have a Harry Potter running around Middle Earth with pointy ears. Please review. 


	3. And they’re off

The Power of Magic and Elves

Disclaimer: Nah, very little is mine. Thanks and enjoy!

Chapter 3: And they're off.

Harry woke the next morning to the whistling noise of Cera breathing out air over her feathers. She had spread one wing over him during the night and her head rested on it. The man from yesterday wasn't anywhere to be seen though the rough camp he had made was still up.

"Good morning, little one." The man called. He was carrying a couple of gourds and water could be heard sloshing within them as he walked. Sunlight assaulted Harry's eyes and he was suddenly aware that his hood had fallen during the night. He grabbed at it and covered his head again. He nervously glanced up at the man. The man had made no indication of being surprised or responding at all to Harry's elfin features.

"There's breakfast if you want it." The man said gesturing to some bread and cheese left beside the fire Aragorn had just put out and poured some of the water over. Harry didn't move and the man sighed but didn't seem surprised.

"My name is Aragorn, little one. What is your name?" The man said. Harry wasn't sure what to say in reply. He wasn't really Harry Potter anymore. Harry Potter had died when the Death Eaters had tortured that name out of him. He had died when they had carved that name into his flesh. But who was he now? He had used the name Orion during the war. Orion the hunter. He was a hunter no longer and Orion would only be a set of stars in the sky.

"I don't have a name." Harry said softly.

"What happened to your parents?" The man asked, trying to keep him speaking.

"They died." Harry felt that was a safe enough answer and certainly true. The man however, looked at him with some confusion. "How were they killed?" He asked. Harry hadn't thought far enough to answer that and again remained quiet.

"I want to help you, little one. Come with me. I will take you to the elves in Rivendell." The man said.

Harry glanced at Cera who was watching him with interest. Harry had little protection from this man other than Cera and if he wished to take him somewhere against his will Harry was certain Cera would fight. He was also certain that the man would defend himself. He had already seen him draw a sword once. Besides Harry found it easier to find reality away from the painful curses and blood when the man was around to distract him. The idea of an entire town of people wasn't appealing. He would be surrounded like he was when he was captured. Forcefully pushing that thought away Harry looked up at the man. He would go with him for now.

The man was packing his bedroll and supplies and was soon ready to travel again. Harry was wondering how far the man planned to go in a day. Harry wasn't certain his leg would support him for more than a few hundred feet. How was he going to go anywhere? He had walked and even fought through pain before he would just have to do so again. Cera positioned herself to push him to standing again. Harry was glad for her help. He knew he'd be asking her to support most of his weight if this journey went very far.

Harry was right. His broken leg even with its splint was numb which he knew was worse than hurting. A few of his wounds had reopened and he could feel fresh blood on his back. His vision was graying and foggy. Thank Merlin Cera was willing to support him. He leaned further into her feathers and his vision of the thinning forest tunneled in. It wasn't even midday yet and Harry knew he couldn't go much further. Cera nudged him again and he fell. The trees and their quickly falling autumn leaves disappeared from his vision. The griffin caught him and he lay unconscious over her back and wings.

* * *

Aragorn had watched the elfling try to stand and was grateful to see the creature help him. He knew the young elf would not allow him to get close enough to help. He would have to rely on Cera as well. What type of creature Cera was, Aragorn didn't doubt that she would be helpful on this journey.

He watched as the morning wore away. The forest was thinning on their left side especially. They would be passing through part of the marshlands soon unless they headed back to the road. But for now Aragorn had kept the pace slow and on easy level ground. He had underestimated the injuries the elfling had. He was just about spent for the day. At this rate the trip to Rivendell would take too long even along the most direct route to the valley. They would get caught in the winter storms and Aragorn did not believe the elfling would survive them.

As he walked Aragorn planned the journey ahead. They would make their way through the marshes which thankfully were drier at this time of the year. From there they would head for the Weathertop, the ruined watch tower. He had enough food to get himself to Imladris but not his young charge. Though it seemed the elfling was hesitant to eat. Perhaps he would not need to hunt often. Aragorn was a skillful hunter but it took time and time was something they didn't have to spare. This elfling was becoming even more of a mystery. The elfling had refused to answer most of his questions and this was telling enough but the questions he did answer left Aragorn with only more worries and questions. The elfling said he didn't have a name. Surely he did at one point in time. The pause before he replied to that question suggested something more than a lack of a well used name. Perhaps the young elf simply wanted to escape from that name and the past it held. Based on his appearance Aragorn couldn't blame him.

The elfling fell and was caught by the creature. He hadn't thought the elfling was as weak as he obviously was. There had to be injuries sapping the young one's strength. From what little he knew of elflings a few injuries could prove fatal if left untended and this elfling seemed to carry more than a few. Perhaps unconscious Aragorn could see to the elf's injuries. He halted and turned to watch the creature halt behind him with the elfling draped across her back. Aragorn mentally tallied the supplies in his pack that he could use on the injured elfling and approached him. Cera however was as cautious of him as her master seemed to be and had no injuries limiting her movement or strength. The creature was certainly a predator and Aragorn was uncertain of his ability to fight it if pressed. Aragorn stopped his approach. Unable to see to the injured elf Aragorn wasn't sure how to proceed. Cera seemed to realize he wouldn't approach again and solved his problem. She managed to position the elfling on her back and moved forward. Aragorn picked up his pace once again. The creature quickly followed. Perhaps there was a chance yet that they would reach the valley of Rivendell before the snow.

It was nightfall before Aragorn stopped. The elfling was still unconscious. The creature wasn't leaving but had maneuvered the elfling to the ground. Aragorn put his pack on the ground and moved to pull out some clean cloth, a blanket and water. Aragorn moved toward the animal and its burden. The creature looked warily at him. The temperature was dropping and Aragorn, becoming more worried, spoke to the creature. After all she had understood the elfling's speech. "Please, I know he's injured. He will die without help." Aragorn said. The creature arched its neck and unfurled its wings partway but didn't advance. Aragorn picked up the blanket and slowly laid it over their young charge. He back away and the animal calmed.

Aragorn sat up watching that night. They had made good time once the creature was carrying the elfling. But the fact that the young elf had to be carried so soon was disturbing. Aragorn needed to see to those wounds and had to first convince both the elf and the creature protecting him that he wasn't a threat. At least he had made some progress in gaining the animal's trust.

* * *

Morning broke and sunlight streamed into the thin bush being used for shelter. Harry found himself awake though Cera was still asleep. He knew Cera must have carried him the day before and was profoundly grateful. The man was awake and began softly singing a melody while tending to a fire.

Cera was up now, probably woken by the man's voice. She looked around at Harry and stared hard at the man.

"Go on Cera. I don't have anything for you." Harry whispered in response to her hesitation to leave and hunt. The griffin glared at the man once more before loping off into the woods to hunt.

"What kind of creature is that?" Aragorn asked. Harry was sure that question had been plaguing him for awhile.

"Cera is a griffin." was Harry's somewhat unhelpful reply. He had lost his breath while talking. Pain was shooting through his ribs. He must have jostled them while Cera carried him.

The man moved closer beside the fire. "Who hurt you?"

Harry could hardly reply that an insane dark lord and his minions had tortured him and laughed and taunted him while they had done so. Death Eaters were aptly named they seemed to thrive on death and pain. It seemed to sustain them and drive them to new heights of cruelty. They crackled with utter joy when they managed to get him to cry out in pain. When he became quiet they took it as a challenge and it became a spectator sport. They devised new ways to cause pain and cheered each other on. One traced patterns in acid on his back. Another tried to see how many wooden splinters they could insert into his legs and feet.

"I know you're in pain. Will you let me help you?" Aragorn asked. Harry jumped and shuddered. Aragorn could pull him out of his memories but he was not going to let him get that close to him. He would pay attention when he spoke though. He might learn enough from him to build a believable story for himself if he stayed around people for long.

"I'm fine." Harry said wrapping his one good arm around his ribs. His broken arm hung limply beside him. He would need to set that too and make a sling but he didn't think Aragorn would let him do so on his own. Well, he had rested enough to use magic to do that much. While Aragorn tended the fire and saw to breakfast Harry gathered his magic and wandlessly cast a spell to set his broken arm. He cringed and let out a soft whimper as he felt the bones move back into place. His leg had been worse, there had been more breaks. Aragorn looked up in worry at the noise. Harry had a slight sheen of sweat on his face from the pain.

"You are not fine, little one." Aragorn said as stood to move closer and help.

Harry panicked at the movement and shuffled backward a few feet, his eyes wide with fear.

"Ok. I won't come closer." Aragorn said in defeat as he raised his hands and backed away again.

After watching Aragorn a few moments to be sure the man would not approach him Harry tried to determine the state of his other injuries since he was lucid enough for now to do so. The man was right. He wasn't fine. His wounds had not closed and more had reopened. He was weaker today than yesterday and his vision seemed to shift leaving him seeing double at times.

He could not walk like that again. He wasn't even sure he could stand. The Death Eaters had always made sure to heal him enough at the end of their sessions with him so that he wouldn't die and end their fun too soon. If it had been really bad they would heal him part way through the torture. He could remember continuously being reawakened so he could feel everything they were doing. Unconsciousness was a release he was not allowed. Sometimes to test him they would threaten to kill another prisoner if he fell unconscious. He always did and woke to hear their screams and the taunts of the Death Eaters. 'You could have saved him Potter but you just weren't strong were you. Maybe you just wanted him to die so you could have some sleep.'

"Breakfast, little one." Aragorn once again called him out of the voices but they were more persistent this time.

"No, no food… I can't." Harry mumbled and cried only half conscious to the voices with the food and turned away. Aragorn retreated with the food and ate his own.

An hour or so past and Cera came back half-flying and half running through the field they were near. She had a dead rabbit clutched in her beak and its legs were flopping as she ran. The voices faded and Harry cracked a half grin at the griffin's antics. Cera would never care what his name was or about the expectations he felt. She was a true friend. He would miss her but everyone else was already gone and he missed them too. Cera skidded to a halt next to them and ate looking up at Harry on occasion.

Soon the camp was packed and Cera positioned herself to help Harry again.

"Why don't you let her carry you, little one." Aragorn spoke.

"I can walk." Harry replied unthinking for once of the man reaction. Men and wizards still seemed to think anything not human was there to serve them. Cera was a friend, the only one he had left, and he was grateful for her.

* * *

By Aragorn's count they were still more than two weeks from Rivendell and that was at a quick pace. But only the griffin could keep that pace. They would soon leave the marshes behind and they should reach Weathertop shortly afterwards. The mountains were a little closer in the distance but the tree cover was lessened. The griffin was carrying him again. The elfling hadn't lasted two hours. Aragorn didn't want to think of what would happen if the griffin decided not to help anymore.

Aragorn picked up his pace as he had done the day before and the griffin kept up just behind him. The quiet let Aragorn think.

The elfling still refused to eat. Aragorn was worried he hadn't eaten much the day before either. His reaction to food was still troubling. And his injuries weren't healing well. The elfling was in more pain, not less. Aragorn hadn't meant to spook him just to help but he clearly was not going to be able to get close enough to do so any time soon. He doubted the elfling would be conscious for much more of their journey without help. And unless the elfling was unconscious and the griffin trusted him more there was nothing he could do.

Of course the elfling wasn't so weak that the stubbornness of every member of that race didn't show through. The elf still insisted on walking as long as he could, further exhausting himself. Aragorn was certain that an elf would submit to death before they admitted defeat. And in this case he was very frightened that the elfling would do exactly that.

* * *

A/N: Well I had fun writing it. Let me know if you like too or if the story should die a quick death. 


	4. Meetings at the Watchtower

The Power of Magic and Elves

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4: Meetings at the Watchtower

They traveled for days and the elfling rarely woke. The weather had turned colder and rain came often to the planes between the marshes and Weathertop. The old watchtower could barely be seen through the rain. Aragorn tried his best to get Cera to allow him to tend to her burden but the griffin hadn't relented yet. Aragorn made sure to get the elfling to eat something even if it was just bread when he did wake. Sweat was constantly on his brow now. Most likely the result of fever and pain.

It was five days after they had started traveling that Aragorn, Cera and the unconscious elfling made it to Weathertop. Unsure if the griffin would climb on the rocky incline Aragorn made his way to the top to look about. Perhaps Elrohir and Elladan would come this way. Either way, the side of the hill would make a good camp site for the night.

The elfling hadn't woken that day at all. But the griffin seemed at home on the rocky path up the hill. The sun was starting to set and Aragorn watched the griffin lower the elf to the ground. That elfling couldn't weigh more than 40 pounds. He had a definite fever now that refused to break and they were still two week out from Rivendell. The weather wasn't helping. It was getting colder and starting to rain once again.

Night came and Aragorn made his daily attempt to get Cera to allow him to touch the elfling. The griffin watched steadily but made no motion to protest Aragorn's progress toward the elfling. Keeping one eye on the griffin, Aragorn tenderly examined the wounds he could find without moving the young elf too much. He wasn't going to put the griffin's trust in jeopardy. He bathed a few still open wounds and covered them. The elfling was dangerously thin. Aragorn could see every rib and several were obviously broken. He managed to wrap the elfling's ribs and reposition the splints on the young elf's broken leg and arm. The splints were well made. He had probably had to make them before. There was dried blood covering the elfling's body and once Aragorn washed it off he could see the scars that crisscrossed his body. The elfling had wounds in various stages of healing covering every part of him that Aragorn could see. Had he been tortured? What else would leave wounds and scars like that? Whatever the elfling had been through it had been going on for some time. Who would be cruel enough to torture someone so young? He was honestly surprised the elfling had lived this long. There was little more he could do for him in the wild. The elfling needed a bed, rest and a healer with more skill than he possessed. Aragorn just hoped the elfling wouldn't give up before he could get him to Rivendell and help. He covered the elf in a blanket and found him as much shelter from the rain as he could. The griffin added its own feathered wing as protection from the rain. And Aragorn settled back to wait out the night.

When morning came without rain but Aragorn was very concerned. The elfling hadn't woken at all the day before and still wasn't awake now. He set about preparing some food for himself and quickly ate. He cared some spare to the elfling and tried to get him to wake. After a few minutes he only succeeded in getting the elfling to turn away from and curl his limbs in as if to protect himself from a blow. Aragorn sighed and left the food beside him. Perhaps the griffin would get him to wake.

Leaving the young elf and his griffin companion he climbed to the top the ruined watch tower. The sunrise had turned the sky red a clear sign of further impending storms. Aragorn scanned the ground below him. Moving swiftly from the east were two figures on horseback with a riderless horse trailing after them. Aragorn quickly made his way back to the elfling. He wasn't sure who the riders were but if they meant harm he would protect the young one. Aragorn made sure the elf was well hidden and waited.

He moved just enough to see the riders' approach. They were tall, dark haired and beardless. From this distance they could be elves. Aragorn very much hoped the riders were Elrohir and Elladan. The twin sons of Elrond would be able to help him care for the elfling and the horses would get them to Rivendell in half the time. The riders dismounted and left the horses at the foot of the hill. They searched the ground for a moment and began to trek up the rocky ground along the same path Aragorn had used.

Cera stirred behind Aragorn. Perhaps she sensed the riders' approach. She moved to stand beside Aragorn and let out a low pitched warning. She would defend the elfling as well. Aragorn hoped that if the riders were Elrohir and Elladan that he would be able to keep the griffin from attacking them. The riders' would be halfway up the path by now but they were momentarily out of Aragorn sight, hidden by a portion of the hill. He took the time to draw his sword and look back at the elfling. He was well hidden in the brush.

Two dark-haired elves came into view again well down the path and still headed towards them. Aragorn let out a sigh of relief, sheathed his sword and stepped back out onto the path. Cera however, wasn't prepared to be as welcoming. She let out a screeching warning, unfurled her massive wings and clawed the air with talons.

"Cera no… don't!" Aragorn called truly hoping animal would stop. Cera might have hesitated a second in the beat of her wings but otherwise was prepared to ignore Aragorn. He very glad the elfling was conscious enough to call to her when they first met.

Elrohir and Elladan stopped and stared at the golden creature blocking the path. Even they, who had lived on Arda for more than a thousand years had never seen such a thing. Such a creature belonged to ancient legend and myth.

"Cera please, they won't harm him." Aragorn said pleadingly. This only caused the creature to glare at him once again. Apparently Aragorn hadn't built enough trust for it transfer to others. The elves and the creature were at a stalemate. Hoping a bit of time would help, Aragorn moved down the path to speak with the elves and inform them of his discoveries of the last few days. He was also very interested to know how the elves had ever allowed an elfling to come to such a fate. Cera glared as he moved off and backed closer to the elfling as if she now had three threats to defend against instead of two.

* * *

Harry vaguely felt something move beside him. Probably Death Eaters throwing just enough healing spells to start the day's session. He tensed in anticipation for their less helpful spells. Soon they would be burning, whipping and causing any other type of pain they could think of. Or maybe they had captured some new prisoner and wanted to make him watch. It had been a young red-headed girl the last time; she'd looked a little like Ginny. They had brought her into his cell and restrained him. They had stripped her and rape her before beating her into unconsciousness and killing her. He shuddered and gasped for air at the blood and screams. He'd rather they just torture him.

Cera let out a warning call that pierced the air and his pain clouded mind. He tried to look but could only gasp for air. It was hard to breathe. Someone had bandaged his ribs and he was laying on his side putting further pressure on them. Moving caused pain too. He would needed Cera's help to move.

"Cera" he managed croak out. The griffin turned her head. The two elves glanced over but at Aragorn's words turned their attention back to the conversation with matching scowls.

Cera, deeming it safe enough for now, moved to help.

In a practiced move, she positioned her head and neck beneath Harry to help lift him up. Harry managed to stay conscious despite the pain and leaned against the rocky face of the hill. Harry saw what had agitated Cera. Joining Aragorn were two elves. All of whom were moving towards him slowly their eyes trained on him. Harry stumbled backward along the rocks. There was nowhere to escape to. Just stone behind him and men moving forward. He was surrounded. Phantom hands reached for him. Pushing, pulling, hitting him until he was on the ground and they could use their feet to kick his ribs and legs. He slid to the ground.

Harry just barely registered Cera moving in front of him.

"It's alright they're friends. They'll help us get to Rivendell." Aragorn tried to calm the frightened elfling but his words weren't doing much.

"Hush… It's alright. We won't harm you. My name is Elladan, this is brother Elrohir." The elf to Aragorn's left said.

"Cera no… just stop." Harry said. The griffin would protect him but didn't want her hurt. The death eaters would never stop they loved the pain they could inflict. It drove them mad.

* * *

Elladan and Elrohir couldn't believe what Aragorn was telling them. The desperately injured child in the bush was an elfling? There hadn't been an elfling born in 500 hundred years. This one's birth should have been met with enough celebration to last months. They wanted nothing more than to go to the young elf, heal him as much as they could before carrying him off to Rivendell and their Father. But Aragorn said he was too fearful to be approached. The griffin, as Aragorn called the creature was a good protector but she was preventing them from helping as they needed to.

Up the path the elfling stirred. They could hear him gasping for air. How they longed to easy his breathing and his pain. To made him understand that no one would harm again. That he was safe and would be cared for and loved. They stayed still on Aragorn's advice. Eventually he called for the creature. It was definitely musical: an Elf's voice. But his was haunting and in such pain.

They turned to watch. The elfling stood with the creature's help. He seemed to notice the additions to the company and gazed at them in utter fear. No elfling should ever have look upon an elf in fear. Scenes of terror passed within the little one's emerald eyes. Twin tears fell from Elladan's and Elrohir's eyes.

Finally the elfling slid down the rock.

They tried to talk to him, to calm him enough to go to him and help.

Finally the elfling called the creature off and sank towards unconsciousness, letting them approach.

"He's given up." Elladan said. They continued to approach him but the elfling whimpered in pain and griffin moved back into her place as protector and sent them a snarl and glare. The elves backed off leaving Aragorn to go on.

Aragorn cautiously helped Cera position the elfling on her back. He was somewhat conscious but didn't protest or acknowledge Aragorn's movement.

The oddly assorted group made their way back down the hill to the horses Elladan and Elrohir had left. The horses shied away from the griffin but calmed with a few words from the elves. Aragorn climbed aboard the spare horse the twins had brought. He hoped the griffin would be able to keep up with the pace of the horses of Rivendell.

The same thought seemed to cross the minds of the twins. They had looked with curiosity when Aragorn put the elfling on the creature. But the elfling should ride with one of them now that they were down the path. They would be able to keep an eye on his condition and make sure he did not fall.

"Aragorn…" Elrohir started.

"Let the griffin carry him. She has carried him this far and I doubt you could take him from her." Aragorn cut off the Elf.

The twins exchanged an unhappy look and mounted the horses they had come on. They started out at a calm pace to see how the griffin would keep up. It soon became clear that the griffin would follow just behind the horses. In fact, she was letting out low snarling noises and tossing her head seemingly amused at the horses' anxious responses. They pushed their horses faster. The elves continued to look back at their new charge as they rode.

When they finally stopped for the night they had traveled much further than Aragorn would have been able to on foot. The weather had held for the day and if it continued to they could be in Rivendell in five days.

* * *

The elfling was unconscious and lowered to the ground by Cera. The griffin stared hard at the company but hesitantly left to hunt. No doubt she would be back soon.

The elves immediately ceased helping to set up the camp and moved toward the elfling now that nothing would prevent them from caring for him. Elladan carried over what healing herbs he had and the two began to assess the youngling's injuries. They peeled off the cloak and robe he was wearing, exposing the few open wounds on his chest.

"You bound his ribs?" Elladan asked, seeing the hasty work Aragorn had previously done.

"I did. It was the first time the griffin would let me near him. I didn't dare move him much or she would have run me off. This is the first time she has left to hunt with him unconscious. The splint is not my doing though. Either he had other help, which I doubt, or he made it himself. " Aragorn replied.

Elrohir shifted the limp elfling to check his back and hissed. His back was covered in blood and wounds which had become infected, undoubtedly contributing to the fever he had. They cleaned and dressed the wounds. Aragorn supplied some water he had been heating over a hastily made fire. Elrohir crushed some leaves into the water and brought it to the elfling's lips to drink.

"It will dull the pain for him. Perhaps he'll wake then and eat something. He is far too thin." Elladan explained as he stroked the little one's throat to get him to swallow reflexively.

"You said you've traveled with him for a few days?" Elrohir asked seemingly confused over something.

"Nearly a week." Aragorn replied.

"He should be healing better than this. Has he said what happened? Where he is from? What happened to his parents? Who hurt him like this?" Elrohir asked.

"He said his parents were dead. He won't tell me much but he hasn't wanted to eat. It's been a trial to get to eat anything when we stop." Aragorn said. He knew that with the elfling back among his own kind, his care of him would be very limited. Elladan and Elrohir would be unlikely to leave his side. He was honestly surprised they yielded to the griffin carrying him.

"You think he is fading." His brother said knowing that was the trail of Elrohir's questions. Long term abuse or torture, which the young one's wounds and scars indicated were not experiences that elves survived easily. The mental pain and anguish usually led to slower healing if the elf retained any will to live.

"Yes I do." Elrohir replied quietly.

"What has happened to you, little one? Please come back to us. No one will hurt you again." Elrohir whispered, stroking the elfling's midnight black hair. His brother was kneeled beside him, one hand on his shoulder offering support and the other tracing circles on the elfling's hand. The elfling began to shudder and unconsciously flinched away from the hands. At least he was coming closer to consciousness than the limp figure they had been examining.

"There's so much for you to see yet. The golden wood when its leaves are gilt and glittering in the morning sun. You have to hear the river sing and hear all the tales of Arda sung before the fire. You will be welcome in Rivendell, little one. Our ada will heal you and you will be safe there. I swear to you, no one will hurt like this again." Elladan added his encouragement.

"No, siri. I didn' mean to. 'm sorry, siri." The elfling slurred trembling; his eyes clenched shut.

Elrohir replaced his hand on top of the elfling brow. "Hush little one. You are safe now." He said.

The elfling gave a last shudder and went still. Elrohir stayed beside him while his brother helped Aragorn with the horses and supplies.

Elrohir was again trying to wake the elfling to get him to eat when Cera came back flying low over the ground with a young wild boar in her talons. She dropped her prize on the edge of the camp and headed toward Elrohir. He backed up sparing a glance for the deep gorges on the side of the wild pig.

"I am not going to hurt him but he will die if we cannot help him. He needs to wake and eat something." Elrohir said a bit exasperated with the stubborn creature preventing him from staying with the elfling.

Cera grudgingly stopped her approach and drug the boar over beside the elfling so she could both watch over him and eat. Or perhaps she meant to share her kill with him.

Elrohir approached the elfling slowly again. Cera didn't protest.

"You gained her trust more quickly than I. I only just got close enough to touch him a day ago." Aragorn commented.

"You are not an elf, my dear Estel." Elladan quipped.

Despite Elrohir's attempts the elfling would not wake but his fever had lessened. The elves kept watch through the night while Aragorn and the griffin slept.

* * *

"Do you hear that?" Elladan asked quietly.

Off in the distance, that only elfin hearing was capable of, a wolf howled.

"Wolves are approaching." Elrohir answered. The howling and baying was coming closer.

"Wake Aragorn." Elrohir said.

The griffin was beginning to stir as well and began to nudge the elfling beside her.

"Moony? 'm sorry moony" The elfling muttered.

Elladan and Elrohir filed the name away for the future and returned their attention to the wolves. They could see them just cresting the furthest hill. Elladan picked up his bow and strung an arrow.

The griffin apparently judged them a threat as well and took to the air with a screech that had the elves wincing.

Elladan and Elrohir watched as the griffin flew off to meet the wolves and the short battle that ensued. The wolves scattered and ran yelping though not all were capable of running. A couple had gouges from familiar talons and Cera even brought one back with her, hanging from its back and neck that were impaled on her talons. Elladan raised one elegant eyebrow and looked to his brother and Aragorn. Elrohir was now a little less frustrated with the creature.

Morning came soon after and Elrohir was worried that the elfling's fever was rising again and he hadn't woken enough to eat. He fed him more of the herbal tea to bring down his fever and help with the pain. They set the elfling back on the griffin and prepared to leave for another day's journey to Rivendell.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for the reviews. I'm glad that most of you like the story, it will continue to be posted. For those interested to know, the story will not feature a slash relationship. I'm simply don't write slash.

I do need ideas for a name for Harry. If you have an idea and would like to offer it as a suggestion I would appreciate it. I have searched quite a few times and haven't found one I like. If I use your name i'll be sure to offer thanks and let you know.

Comments, Questions, Suggestions, Ideas? Please Review.


	5. To the Ford of Bruinen

The Power of Magic and Elves

Disclaimer: I wonder how rich I'd be if I did own Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. Ah well, it was a good dream I don't own a thing.

Chapter 5: To the Ford of Bruinen

They were now a day out from the first river. They had just set out when after an hour of riding the rain started again. A wind from the northeast drove it into their faces and their cloaks whipped behind them soaking their clothing until it stuck to their skin. The horses were tossing their heads as the rain stung their faces and chests. Only the griffin seemed impervious to the rain as it simply beaded and streamed off of her feathers and ran down her sleek fur.

"If this rain keeps up we'll likely see the Hoarwell flooding its banks if we ever reach it." Aragorn yelled over the din of the storm.

Elladan looked back to check on the elfling and shook his head. "That griffin sure seems to like this miserable weather." He said. Cera was running and skimming the ground, gaily snapping her beak at the rain drops. The elfling was crouched on her back between her wings and was a little more protected by the feathers than the horse-mounted riders.

"Too bad we all aren't riding them. This rain is flooding the road." Elrohir said. Indeed, the horses were laboring in the mud to keep up any decent pace. They would be spent much sooner today.

An hour later the company's heads were all bowed into their hoods and their horses had slowed to a walk having to pull their hooves out of the deep mud with every step.

"Over there" Said Elladan, pointing to a copse of gnarled old holly trees that would provide some shelter from the winds and rain. He had been scanning the land for shelter but there was little cover between Weathertop and the Last Bridge, that they making towards.

They pulled their supplies from their horses. Elrohir reclaimed his vigil over the elfling, helping Cera lower him to the ground and position him to take the most advantage of their meager shelter. The elfling was unconscious and limp in his arms.

Elladan and Aragorn set the horses to stand near the shelter. The horses grouped together finding warmth and turned their faces away from the driving rain. Cera ran off to play in it.

"His fever has risen again." Elrohir muttered to himself.

"Here, brother" said Elladan. He handed his twin the set of herbs that would lower the young one's fever. Elladan must have heard the quiet words despite the storm.

"He's too deeply unconscious. Will you hold him up?" Elrohir said crushing the herbs into a small quantity of water. It would be a stronger dose this time. Hopefully they would get him to wake if they had to spend the day sheltered here.

Elladan slid behind the elfling and propped him up, running his hand through the black hair and whispering to the elf leaning against his chest.

"Oh, get well little one so me and 'Ro can take you to climb the trees. I'll even convince Glorfindel to make you bow and we'll teach you to shoot. We'll tell you stories of when Estel was little like you. He let a pair of squirrels he'd found into the kitchen one day. He said they looked hungry. The cook refused to let him into the kitchens for a week after that." Elladan said, his eyes shining with mirth at the memory. He was always the more mischievous of the two and thankfully his twin let him lead. He could imagine how dull life would have been when they were young if Elrohir hadn't followed him into trouble. Perhaps a few stories would easy the elfling's heart.

Elrohir managed to get the elfling to swallow the bitter tea. Seeing his brother whispering something into the small ear, Elrohir helped Aragorn with the rest of their supplies.

"How is he Elrohir?" Aragorn asked as he moved to uncover a few dry blankets and the food the twins had brought. He was worried but glad to have met with the twins. Elrond had trained all his sons in healing but Elrohir had learned much more than he had.

"He is getting worse. That fever refuses to break." Elrohir stated quietly, unhappy with the answers he had to give. It pulled at his soul to see an elfling in so much pain.

"But the herbs you've been giving him… Aren't they working?" Aragorn asked.

"Only for a short time. He is conscious less often and speaks to figures and voices only he can see and hear. I fear he'll become lost in the shadows." Elrohir replied with a worried glance back at the young elf that Elladan was still whispering to with a gleam in his eye.

"Even were he conscious he'd probably not let you treat him. He's always recoiled when I tried." Aragorn said. "What do you think happened to him?"

"I don't know. He's been hurt and still expects to be hurt. He's obviously been starved. When I rebound his ribs I could clearly see the breaks. He had calluses on them and on his collar bone. These aren't the only broken bones he's had." Elrohir continued.

"If I ever find those responsible for this I will ensure they are incapable of ever hurting a young one again." Aragorn said softly with a steely edge.

"I will be right beside you, brother." Elrohir replied. He expected his twin would be as well.

Beside Elladan the elfling began to mutter and shift in the elder elf's hold. Elrohir moved closer hoping to hear something to give them clues as to what had happened. He had already stored away a few names to tell his father about later.

"No… I can't, can't. No food. Can't" the elfling mutter stuttering and gasping between words.

"Can't what?" Elrohir asked lightly. Elladan's and Aragorn's attention shifted to him. He knew questioning like this might cause the elfling to become further lost to them. But the chance to know what happened was one he couldn't pass up. Not only would it help them understand and heal the elfling perhaps they would learn who had done this to him.

"stay quiet…can't. No, no food." The elfling turned away from them and hid his head with his hands.

"Why can't you stay quiet?" Elrohir asked wishing the weather would let them reach Imladris and his father.

"No, no… it hurt…burns…please no." The elfling howled with pain.

"No one is hurting you. Nothing is hot or burning you." Elrohir said kneeling beside the elfling. He had to pull him out of the shadows he was lost in. "Listen to me. You are safe here. No one will hurt you for taking food."

He calmed and partially uncurled.

"They left?" The elfling asked as if afraid to believe Elrohir's voice.

"They are gone now, little one. Open your eyes." Elrohir spoke strongly to convince him with the strength of his voice alone.

The elflings eyes fluttered open. They were still glazed with fever but he seemed to see his true surroundings. He turned his head toward the company. Elrohir backed up, not wanting to frighten him.

"Please little one, what is your name?" Elladan asked quietly, wanting him to tell them something. If they could keep him talking about anything he would be less likely to get lost in whatever memories he was reliving.

The elfling seemed to think for a moment. Aragorn had once told them that the elfling wouldn't claim a name. Perhaps this time he would choose a new one.

"Penestel" He finally answered.

"Hopeless?" Aragorn said reverting to the common tongue since the elfling did not understand it. Did the elfling truly believe he was? He shared a brief and sorrowful look with the twins.

"I will not call you such a thing, little one. There is always hope, for no one can see all ends." Elrohir said trying to instill some of that hope into the young one before him. They had to convince this elfling that there was hope and joy in the world or he would soon fade.

* * *

See… Trelawney had claimed to see. She saw death when he was around. She was right. He was surrounded by death. Cedric, Albus, Sirius, Hermione, Remus, even Fred and George. And the ironic part was the only one should have died was still alive. He wondered if Trelawney had ever seen him die with pointy ears. His musings raised a chuckle from him that turned to a hacking cough through his bound ribs.

"Here, it's just water." One of the elves extended a cup towards him and placed it on the ground before moving away again.

Harry backed away unsure of these newcomers and eyed Aragorn. He didn't trust the man either but he'd been with him longer.

"It's alright. Take the water." Aragorn encouraged him with a small smile.

Locking his eyes on Aragorn and darting them to the closest elf, he extended a wasted arm and took the cup. He held it and inhaled testing their claim of water before drinking deeply.

He closed his eyes for just a moment enjoying his time outside of that cell.

"Where are you from, little one?" The other elf asked this.

Harry knitted his brow and thought a moment. Hogwarts, unplotable location somewhere in Scotland was the answer or maybe it was Privet Dr in Surrey or maybe even Godrics Hallow though he couldn't remember ever living there. He had visited once after finally asking Remus where his parents were buried.

His eyes were blank, an attempt at hiding his pain. All of the places he could call home were destroyed. Number 4 had been targeted by some inept Death Eater that sealed the house and set fire to it before checking to see if any of the residents were at home. The Dursleys actually managed to live through the war and moved to Majorca. His only living family whether by friendship or blood still hated him.

"What happened to your parents?" The other tried this time. They seemed to understand he wouldn't, or couldn't answer the question.

Harry took the hint that they wanted him to talk. It would probably help keep him from being consumed by his memories but his parents were a subject he couldn't talk about much.

"They were killed. I don't remember them much." Except when dementors were around then he remembered just fine. Other memories competed for his attention around dementors the last time he had seen one.

"I'm sorry. Who did you live with after that?" The elf asked prompting the end of his string of memories.

Too many questions like this would raise problems for Harry. If he told them he lived with a human family they wonder why he didn't know the language. They would probably wonder how he learned the language he was currently using. Frankly he didn't know either but blamed it on the undirected magic. The idea of telling them the truth about what had happened didn't even cross his mind. Who would want to help the person responsible for all those deaths, the person the Death Eaters had broken. It surprised him to realize that he wanted their help if only to keep him out of that cell and the deaths.

Suddenly he realized he couldn't remember their names and it bothered him for some reason. He couldn't remember if they had ever told him either.

"Who are you?" he whispered. His strength was disappearing quickly and with it his vision and hold on this reality.

"My name is Elladan. The uglier one over there is Elrohir." The elf answered with a grin.

His identical twin said something in response.

Harry's eyes dropped closed. They reminded him of Fred and George. Maybe if he'd taught the DA better they would have survived the attack on Diagon Alley. He should have taught that bone exploding hex he'd used against McNair when he and Ron had cornered him and Nott Sr. Or maybe they should have practiced cutting curses more. That curse had certainly been used to great effect. It was a favorite of Ron's by the end, that and reducto. He had single handedly brought down the Death Eater's Knockturn Alley meeting point with that curse. Ron had described the scene in great detail afterward complete with a cave-in right on top of Rabastan Lestrange. Many a bottle of Ogden's finest had been witness to the telling of that story. 'Here, Harry. To finest hunters this little tavern will ever see.' Ron said clinking his glass against Harry's who rushed to steady it. 'Ya shoulda seen it Har. There was brick and dust flying halfway into the next Alley over. Probably coated old man Bentrunken's pub.' Ron laughed. 'And when it all cleared, Har, there was the feet and boots of Rabastard. May he live in Hell.' Ron had picked up several muggle phrases. The muggle world was safer. Hermione would have been proud. But maybe that was part of the reason Bellatrix hunted Ron down. He had killed her husband.

* * *

Elladan asked a few more questions trying to get the elfling to respond again.

"We've lost him again." Elrohir told his brother who stopped with the questions.

The elfling fell asleep again not long after. He muttered and tossed for awhile even screaming a few times. There was nothing they could. He would not accept comfort from them unless he unconscious and limp. Eventually he stilled, his brow covered with sweat.

"No elfling should cringe away from the Eldar. Has he never met another elf?" Elrohir commented.

"I know he said his parent had died and he doesn't remember them. How old was he and where did he go after?" Elladan asked.

"He doesn't trust anyone and perhaps he hasn't met other elves. It would explain why he is wary of everyone he meets. As for where he has been, I'm starting to wonder if we should even ask. He seems to become lost when we ask about his past. Perhaps we should wait until he's ready to tell us." Aragorn replied.

Finally around midday the weather cleared and the sun reappeared. They abandoned their shelter and reclaimed their mounts. The griffin hadn't returned so Elrohir picked up the elfling and set him before him on his horse. Elrohir kept a close watch on the elfling's fever and strength. He was waning and Elrohir was nearly out of herbs to treat his fever and pain.

"We need to ride on to Rivendell as soon as we can." He called to the others.

It was still slow going but they continued on until after dusk. The griffin had returned by then and circled the horses like an overzealous guard. They were fairly sure nothing would take them by surprise. Riding by the light of the moon, they reached the Last Bridge and crossed into the Trollshaws.

They stopped beneath the trees. There were a few hours left before dawn. Elrohir gave the elfling the last of the herbs he had carried. They traded shifts watching the elfling through the rest of the night. The elfling's fever had risen again even with the herbs.

When morning came they moved to set out again. Despite their best attempts they could not get the elfling to wake at all. It was a straight path to the Ford and the border of Rivendell. The Griffin made no protest when Elrohir picked up the elfling to place him on his horse.

"Thank you, Cera. I won't let anyone harm him." Elrohir said gratefully to the griffin. The horses on the familiar path through wooded lands would be swifter. And Elrohir would be able to help the elfling if his health started to decline faster.

The road to the Ford was drier. The trees had kept the water from washing it out in the rain the day before. The day was cloudy and threatening rain but it hadn't started yet. They rode three abreast down the wide path.

"Where do you think he's from?" Elladan asked. "There aren't many elves with green eyes like his or that black hair."

"No. Our own family comes closest though our hair is not so dark. Grandmother had a brother with eyes such as his. Do you not remember the painting of Finrod Felagund?" Elrohir asked.

"Oh course, but he returned to the Valinor an age ago." Elladan answered.

"If he doesn't remember his parents we will probably never know. He will have to make a new family." Aragorn ended the twin's arguments before they could recite the history of every green eyed or black haired elf they ever heard tell of.

They rode for a few hours in silence. Elrohir continued to check the condition of the bundled elfling in front of him.

"His fever is rising again." Elrohir commented.

Elladan and Aragorn urged their horses into a faster pace and Elrohir followed. They should reach the Ford by nightfall if they kept to their pace.

The griffin flew close to the ground behind them skimming back and forth across the path and dragging her talons to stir up the fallen leaves. The horses kept to their riders' pace diligently and just after nightfall they reached the Ford.

They allowed the horses their heads and they stopped to drink from the river before crossing the Ford. Relieved to have crossed the border into Rivendell they stopped to rest for a few hours. Elrohir exchanged a very worried gaze with Elladan and the two knew they would be trading shifts watching over the health of the little one they carried.

"Stay close Cera. The archers have never seen a griffin. It wouldn't be safe for you to hunt here." Aragorn said a bit worried for the creature until she laid down near the elfling.

* * *

The elves had taken the first watch but Aragorn had woken and insisted they rest. They had been remarkable stubborn. He was watching over the elfling as the first rays of the sun lit the leaves still clinging to the trees in Rivendell. The elfling was restless. His eyes were clenched shut and he was laboring to breathe as if panicked and in pain.

Aragorn ran his hand through the ebony hair, whispering a description of Imladris since the elfling would miss the sight when they would ride in later today. "It's a beautiful city set in a deep valley at the foot of the Misty Mountains. The fall always seems to last a little longer and the spring come a little sooner in Rivendell. There are two streams from the mountains that flow through the valley to meet with the river and a bridge spans the width. On one side is the Last Homely House. You will be welcome there. Gardens encircle the house and a terrace looks out over the river. In the Hall of fire everyone will meet and tales will be told and songs sung about history and love, about stars and leaves and the world when it was new. It's a peaceful place. A refuge for those who seek it…"

* * *

Harry had been screaming though his voice refused to comply. His skin was blistering and peeling from his body. Still, they threw curses. They broke his collar bone laughing when the jagged edge of the bone broke through the skin. It stopped suddenly. Voldemort had arrived. It was wrong that his coming would herald a brief bit of peace. But another voice was warring with Voldemort's and this voice was leading him away from that fate.

"Ar'gorn?" Harry eye's cracked open.

"I'm here, little one." The man said with a tearful smile.

"Thank you." He whispered. Voldemort's voice had lost its hold for now. He relaxed into a peaceful sleep.

"Always" Aragorn whispered.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for all the supportive reviews. It certainly contributed to this timely update and I hope no one minds the somewhat longer chapter. Also thanks to JuMiKu for the suggestions and the site (realelvish.kagirinai. com) I took the name Harry gave for himself. He will not be called that however but his new name will pop up in the next chapter. Thank you for all the other suggested names as well. And no, harry isn't going to die anytime soon though that last scene could have made a good death scene. 

If you have other suggestions for the story or just want to add motivation for me to update sooner feel free to review. I do take your suggestions seriously and the story plot has already changed a bit according to them (i.e. more Aragorn).

Coming soon: Chapter 6: The Last Homely House


	6. Welcome to Rivendell

The Power of Magic and Elves

Disclaimer: Still not mine. I even stole lines from the books. I did in the previous chappie too but they were slightly altered.

Chapter 6: Welcome to Rivendell

The sun had well and truly risen and they packed the camp. Aragorn claimed the elfling for the last leg of the journey. His fever had not abated and the infection on his back was still present. The horses were moving and they would reach the Last Homely House by midday.

They were finally within sight of the courtyard and pushed the horses to gallop the last of the distance. They had left the griffin behind to follow when the path became too narrow and the woods too dense for the creature to fly.

In the courtyard a few elves were watching and wondering at their sudden entrance. Elladan and Elrohir scanned the faces looking anxiously for their father. Aragorn quickly covered the elfling in a cloak to turn away the curious stares. They would learn about his presence in Rivendell soon enough.

"Estel, take him to the hall. We'll find father." Elladan called to him as he and his twin vaulted off their horses. A few elves working in the stables hurried over to take them. A fair-haired elf approached.

"Why the hasty arrival, Elladan? Is there some threat to Imladris or one of the realms?" The blond asked.

"Glorfindel, where is Lord Elrond?" Elladan asked ignored Glorfindel's question.

"In his study with Erestor." Glorfindel replied. "What is the matter?" the elf asked and looked over curiously at Aragorn and the bundle he was carrying.

Aragorn set off for the halls of healing. He could feel the elfling's fever through the cloak. The Halls of healing were set back near the mountainside and the path was covered with arched wood, intricately carved with graceful curving lines. He reached an empty room in the Hall and laid the elfling on the bed. He pulled a chair near the bedside and tried to sit still but worry kept him pacing.

* * *

Elladan and Elrohir had been followed by Glorfindel to their father's study with Elladan barging ahead. 

"What is this about Elrohir?" Glorfindel asked stepping in front of him. The twins of Elrond were certainly anxious but he had not heard of a threat to Rivendell, nor a reason for them to seek their father so urgently.

Elrohir glanced around quickly to check to see how many would overhear. Elladan had already passed out of sight around the corner. The hallway and woods that had grown up with the structures were empty. The news would travel quickly once told but for now Aragorn hardly needed curious onlookers and his father did not need to be plagued with questions once he saw to the elfling.

"An elfling, Glorfindel." Elrohir answered quietly to Glorfindel great surprise. "Estel found him in the wilds between the Weather Hills and the North Downs. He's been badly hurt and he's so frightened. He's unconscious now and Estel is with him. He'll need father's help if he's going to survive. There was nothing more I could do for him." Elrohir answered. Glorfindel's eyes harden to steel. The blond-haired elf had gained his title of Balrog slayer when he protected a group of elflings and elleths from the monster. He had often shadowed Elrohir and his brother in their youth when they went exploring, keeping them from harm. The elfling had gained another protector.

Elrohir and Glorfindel entered Lord Elrond's study behind Elladan who was currently explaining the situation. Elrond moved past them hurrying through the halls. They followed in his wake.

"Elrohir, what have you done for him?" Elrond asked his son.

"I had been dosing him herbs to bring down his fever and lessen the pain. But I couldn't help the infection on his back in the wilds. Between the lash marks and burns there isn't much skin left to his back." Elrohir answered. The balrog slayer shot him a hard glare. He hadn't mentioned that to Glorfindel. "I ran out of supplies two days ago and he's been unconscious sense then unless he woke for Estel last night." Elrohir added for his father.

"And he won't let you treat him when he's conscious?" Elrond enquired.

"No, he recoiled from all of us though he seemed to trust Estel more 'Dan or I." Elrohir replied.

Glorfindel's brow was creased. "He's afraid of the Eldar? What in the Valar's name would cause him to distrust us?"

"Estel doesn't think he's met many elves. He said his parents had died and he doesn't remember them. He expects everyone to hurt him. He has little hope left in life." Elrohir said quietly to Glorfindel though he knew his father was listening as well. Elrohir could only remember what the elfling had named himself: Penestel.

Elrond walked faster through the halls. The structures of Imladris had been in this valley sense the Second Age of Middle Earth. The life of the valley had grown strong among the structures and trees leaned into them sharing the lives of the elves. They quickly made their way past the great library and spare rooms. Several elves moved aside for the Lord of Rivendell and his companions, their faces showing curiosity towards the usually sedate Lord.

They entered the hall of healing and quickly found Estel in the first room. He had unwrapped the elfling from his cloak and was running his hands through his hair in anxiety. The elfling lay motionless on the bed.

Elrond quickly approached and carefully removed the robe the elfling was wearing exposing his wrapped chest and the wounds on his abdomen. Elrond's fingers deftly made their way down the frail form searching for other injuries. He carefully unwrapped the binding on the ribs and turned the elfling to see his back.

Glorfindel hissed behind him and Elladan and Elrohir cringed. It hadn't looked that bad the last time they had seen it.

Elrond attention was drawn momentarily away from his horribly injured charge. "Go and get cleaned up. You've ridden far and hard. Glorfindel can assist for now." The blond-haired elf nodded and moved toward the bed.

"Yes, father" They all replied. Aragorn and the twins reluctantly left seeing no help available for them.

"These splints are well enough made but I need to tend his back. Stay with him for a moment." Elrond asked as he rolled the elfling onto his back and moved to another room to gather supplies.

Glorfindel sat in the chair Aragorn had abandoned earlier. He looked down at the sunken face of the elfling.

"I wish I knew who had done this to you. I imagine half of Imladris would empty to hunt them down." Glorfindel whispered to the unmoving figure.

"You are so small and so young. No one so young should be so hurt but you will not be hurt again. You are safe now." Glorfindel swore some of his power escaping into his voice. The elfling's breathing was starting to come in gasps and he shuddered as if cold. Glorfindel brought the coverlet up to cover the wounded chest and the elfling flinched before settling again. Glorfindel studied the small face and slight rising of his chest looking to see if the elfling would stir again.

Elrond came back into the room carrying cloth wraps, a wooden bowl containing a thick paste of herbs and cup with some potion.

"He stirred a moment ago when I was speaking to him. I drew the coverlet and he flinched. Elrohir was right. I doubt he'll let you treat him when he's conscious." Glorfindel told the returning healer.

"We have to gain his trust somehow otherwise I'll have to keep him drugged and I'd rather not do so." Elrond said frowning and bring over the bowl with the paste. "Right now it's good he is unconscious. Hold him upright." Elrond said.

Glorfindel positioned the elfling so Elrond could spread the paste over his back and bind his ribs. They managed to get him to swallow a stronger version of the tea Elrohir had given him earlier and treated the wounds that were still open on his legs and arms.

"Thanks you, Glorfindel. I'll stay with him now. Send them in, if you would." Elrond said. Glorfindel moved to the room's entrance and took one glance back at the small elf further dwarfed by the large bed.

Glorfindel left the room and smiled at the sight. Estel, Elrohir and Elladan were milling about in front of the door.

"Your father asked me to send you in." He said before moving off.

"Glorfindel?" Aragorn called out, stopping the elf. "Would you spread word? There's a creature in the forests outside the valley that befriended him" Aragorn said nodding towards the closed door Glorfindel had come out of. "He's gold in color and is some kind of half-eagle and half-beast. The little one called it a griffin but I've never heard of such a thing." Glorfindel nodded in reply though seemed equally confused at the description and name.

"You asked to see us, father?" Elladan and Elrohir said as they stepped into the room with Aragorn behind them.

"Sit Estel" Elrond said smiling at his adopted son and beckoning him into the last empty chair. The twins had already claimed seats.

"How is he?" Aragorn asked his eyes moving to the small figure.

Elrond sighed. "His recovery will be long and painful and all the more so if he does not trust us."

"But he will recover?" Elrohir asked, worry evident in his voice.

"Yes, I believe he will if we can convince him that there is hope yet in the world." Elrond answered softly to both his sons and the elfling on the bed beside him.

"Tell me what you know of him." Elrond said, getting back to the purpose of this meeting.

* * *

Elrond sat beside the elfling into the night. As Elrohir's trials with him would have predicited, even Elrond's stronger treatment for fever had not kept the heat from the elfling's body for long. Elrond rinsed out a cloth with cool water and placed it over the elfling's brow. It would be a long night. 

His sons had spoken of the elfling's overwhelming fear of them. Elrond agreed with Aragorn, the elfling could not have met many elves for the stories Aragorn had heard were true and the elves prized their young. He did wonder how the elfling learned the language and if he truly did not understand another.

Elrohir had kept track of the things the elfling mentioned during waking nightmares. He had mentioned a few names: Siri and Moony. Odd names and certainly not Elvish, but the elfling had spoken fondly of them.

Aragorn walked into the room, interrupting his contemplations.

"You should be resting Estel." He gently chided his son.

"I know Ada. I worry for him." Aragorn said watching the still elfling on the bed. "Has his fever risen again?" He asked noting the cloth.

"Yes, it has. I worry for him as well." Elrond answered ringing out the cloth and replacing it again.

"He woke last night; I was speaking to him of this place of the gardens and hall of fire. He reacts to voices. They seem to bring him out of whatever memories he lingers in." Aragorn said recalling the previous night. "He even called my name and thanked me for it."

"Yes, Glorfindel mentioned something similar though not with the same effect. Our little one here needs help to find this world through the shadows of one he has been dwelling in. I believe he stayed with you when you found because his need to flee the shadows was greater than his fear of you." Elrond replied. "That he thanked you for it is…"

The door opened again interrupting Elrond's speech.

"Ah, I believe this little one is fated to wrap all of Imladris around his finger in time." Elrond said smiling to his long-time friend. "Welcome Glorfindel."

"Worried for him as well, are you?" Glorfindel asked the others in the room and moved a chair to join the group at the bedside.

The others smiled in answer.

"Father mentioned the elfling reacted to your voice, Glorfindel?" Aragorn

"Yes, Elrohir had mentioned how frightened he seemed. He needs to feel safe here if he is to heal. He began to have trouble breathing and was shaking until I drew the coverlet over him and he cringed at the touch." Glorfindel told them.

"We'll need to keep speaking to him to keep him in this world." Elrond said concluding all their thoughts.

"And we need something to call him. He cannot remain 'the elfling' forever." Glorfindel added.

Aragorn's face darkened recalling how the elfling had responded to that.

"Estel?" Elrond questioned.

"He said his name was Penestel and Elrohir refused to call him that." Aragorn said.

"And rightly so." Glorfindel added shortly regaining part of the anger he had felt earlier when learning of the elfling's past.

The elfling beside them began to stir.

* * *

Harry could hear voices. Not an unusual thing; the Death Eaters always planned their next session of fun outside his cell. It was dark in his cell. There were no windows and no light. In a sense he welcomed the Death Eaters since they always cast a few Lumos spells so they could see their handiwork. They took longer to plan today since the muttering could still be heard. The cell door was flush with the wall he was securely trapped. He tried for weeks to get out pounding on the door and walls until his hands were bloody. Magic had little effect on solid rock not that he could do magic here anymore. He tried to cast a wandless reducto the first time he'd woken up in the cell. It blasted a chunk of the rock into dust that he'd inhaled in the small space till he passed out and the dust settled. The Death Eaters had done what his and aunt and uncle hadn't managed to after that and beaten him until he could longer do magic as he hadn't the energy to think let alone move his hands or start an incantation. They had then reapplied their treatment nearly every day. Here he was trapped and there was no one left to rescue him. No one left to care. He shuddered and trembled in the cold. Was this how Sirius felt on Azkaban? The mutterings increased and laughter could be heard with mentions of some new devised torture. 

Some of the mutterings were becoming more distinct and competing with the Death Eaters. Harry panicked, what was this new device to break him?

"Easy, little one. You're safe here." It was a familiar voice. The man's voice. Aragorn from the forests. He had pulled Harry from his cell before and given him food without torture. The Death Eater had become less distinct and the walls of the cell were more blurry than ever.

He heard another voice, stronger and more compelling though unfamiliar "Open your eyes; there's no one here to hurt you." It almost like the Imperius curse and for a moment Harry struggled against it but the voice had come from the same place as the man's.

"Come, little one, back to the light where it's safe." A third voice spoke calmly penetrating the absolute darkness of Harry's cell.

He opened his eyes.

The voices were elvish, other than Aragorn's and their owner's matched. One was dark haired with warm brown eyes the other was blond with blue-grey eyes. He was lying on a bed with a small table beside it holding a shallow bowl of water and a few candles. The three were sitting around him a little too close for his liking but they weren't moving yet. Harry edged backward towards the head of the bed upsetting a cloth from his forehead.

"Try not to move, you'll open your wounds and hurt that leg." Said the brown-haired elf as he moved towards him.

Harry panicked at the movement and scurried to the far side of the bed, heedless of his injuries. His breathing had quickened and was coming in gasps through his broken ribs and he scanned the room for the door finding it behind the elves. He was trapped here as well. Finally his eyes, still widened in fear, landed on Aragorn.

"Hush, it's alright. This is the elf I told about. He is my father, well my adopted father, Lord Elrond." Aragorn said indicating the dark-haired elf.

"And what have you told him, Estel?" Elrond said, smiling at his son.

"Estel?" Harry questioned looking to Aragorn.

"It's what I am called among the elves." Aragorn replied.

"I'd be more concerned about what Elladan may have told him. I am Glorfindel little one." The blond-haired elf introduced himself.

Harry had a feeling they were trying to keep this conversation light and appreciated their attempts.

"How do you feel, little one?" Elrond asked.

"I'm fine." Harry replied automatically. He had always given that same response to anyone who asked that particular question.

Elrond smiled at him and spoke again, "You are not fine. But you will be."

"Welcome to Rivendell, Faervel. For a strong spirit you must have to have come so far." Elrond spoke again with a gentle smile.

* * *

A/N: So I lied about the title. Sue me. You'll get a few cans of soup and a box of cereal since thats all I've got. This chapter goes out to Naomi Maxwell who inquired about the chances of two chapters in one day. Well, I got close to posting this within 24 hours of the last chapter. My thanks to all those who provided the motivation especially Siamh for the most entertaining review I've gotten yet. 

Again the name Elrond just gave Harry comes from the same website and indeed Faervel means strong spirit. He will not be addressing himself as Faervel but as Harry as I agree with one reviewer that Harry without his name just isn't the same and he may tell someone that name at some point just not yet.

Ideas? please let me know. I'll be including the fate of Snape since someone asked and a cure or at least an explaination for Cera's apparent loneliness as the only griffin on middle earth. Thanks for the inspiration.

Chapter 7: The Last Homely House (I'll get that bugger of a title yet. And this time I'm sure since the chappie is half written)


	7. The Last Homely House

The Power of Magic and Elves

Disclaimer: wow... these get annoying after awhile. See previous and the soup is tomato.

Chapter 7: The Last Homely House

"They say an elfling was found out in the wilds. Even the trees whisper the tale. Perhaps that was what Estel was carrying yesterday. It would good to see an elfling about these halls again." A blond-haired elf named Meresel said while preparing loaves of bread to be baked in the ovens. There was to be a feast held that night in honour of the return of the Lord's sons and more elves than usual had arrived in the kitchens volunteering to help with the preparations.

The others in the kitchens turned to listen. They had all heard the rumors spreading through Imladris and had come to hear and tell what they had heard. They all hoped to have them proven or disproven at the feast tonight. Until then, speculation would run wild among those at work to pass the time.

"I heard he had been living with some great monster that Lord Glorfindel has sworn to slay. My sister heard him telling the archers to leave some great beast in the forest alone. It is good to have the elfling safe in Rivendell now." Neliel piped up from her own place preparing the vegetables.

"I think the elfling was hurt. Lord Elrond asked for my brother's help in the Halls of Healing yesterday and then dismissed him. So the Lord saw to whoever it was and many saw his sons arrive healthy" Said a third elf that was not bothering to work and only contributing to conversation.

"Rumors only! Lord Elrond will announce anything we need to know on the subject. If there is an elfling and if he is hurt it would hardly do for him to be surrounded as he heals and we will see him soon enough. Elflings can never be still enough to stay in a few rooms out of sight after all." Elhadril said. She was only one of the four to always work in the kitchens and in these rooms her will reigned supreme. She had been the one to forbid Estel entry after the incident with the squirrels.

The talking ceased and preparations continued among hushed conversations as a dark-haired elf slipped out with a few pastries Elhadril hadn't been watching.

* * *

"Have you heard the rumors, Elrohir?" Elladan asked, handing his brother a pastry. 

"What rumors?" Elrohir asked, shaking his head at the offered pastry.

"Oh, Glorfindel's supposed to be off slaying some beast according to one young elleth. I'll have to warn Cera." Elladan continued laughing.

"Perhaps you should be warning Glorfindel instead." Elrohir replied with a chuckle.

"About the griffin or the elleth?" Elladan asked with a laugh. The two were making their way to the Halls of Healing to see how the elfling had faired during the night.

"And I suppose the cook will not miss those pastries?" Elrond said coming up from behind his twin sons.

"Oh course not, father." Elladan quipped. "Want one?" he said offering Elrohir's pastry to their father.

Elrond started to reply when a pained scream pierced the air and the three took off in its direction.

Glorfindel and Aragorn were already with the elfling trying to bring him out of whatever memories were causing him pain.

The elfling kicked off the covers and was curled up on the bed as tightly as possible with the splints on his leg and arm. As quickly as it started the screaming stopped though the elfling was now whimpering and cringing almost silent. Obviously his memory of the pain hadn't ended.

"Come on, little one. It isn't real, no one is hurting you. I would not let them." Glorfindel swore loudly, trying to break the elfling free from whatever tortures he remembered.

The elfling curled tighter and Glorfindel winced at the pain he must feel in that position. Elrond and his sons entered to hear Golfindel's attempt and see its result.

"Elrohir, go and fetch a tea to calm him." Elrond instructed his son. The tea wouldn't stop the imagined pain but it would keep him from injuring himself further. Already blood was staining the bandages on his back and Elrond's trained eyes could see fresh blood from a wound on his leg that the splint had been covering.

Aragorn had brought him out of his memories before and resolved to try again and spoke softly "You're in Rivendell, little one. Remember what I told you about this place, about the streams that flow from the mountains? You can see leaves riding the currents from the bridge during the fall. All the leaves have turned to crimson and gold." Aragorn spoke of Imladris once again hoping the valley's magic would work even through his simple description. The elfling's whimpers and gasps came slower. Elrohir returned with the tea his father had asked for but stopped his progress at a signal from his father.

Glorfindel picked up the tale putting as much power into his voice as could and wishing he had the abilities of Finrod and his songs of power. "The snow will soon come and the trees will be covered in it. The valley and the trees are quiet in winter, asleep under their snowy blankets. I'm sure Estel will come and help us throw snow at Elladan. In the spring we'll show you the gardens and all the flowers that bloom there. Perhaps Estel will help you find a few more hungry squirrels and you can test the patience of dear Elhadril in the kitchens. We'll teach you to ride in the summer and you can meet Asfaloth, he's pure white and beautiful. He'll be three years old by then and ready to go running through the trees with us."

* * *

"_Crucio!"_ Voldemort screamed and the curse leapt out of his wand and Harry was instantly on the ground withering in pain. The sound of screaming permeated the air. The monster lifted the curse and by his raw throat Harry knew the scream was his. He could feel tremors of pain traveling down his body like bees dragging their stingers across his skin in waves. 

"So this is the great Harry Potter on the ground at my feet." Voldemort savored the words.

"Hold him up." Voldemort commanded two of his thugs made from the same ilk as Crabbe and Goyle.

After the first few cutting curses and bone breaking hexes Harry couldn't hear Voldemort's curses. All he could hear was his own blood rushing through his ears and the echo of his screams reverberating inside his head. There was a haze of spell fire flying towards him but the potion they had forced him to swallow wouldn't let him pass out. His legs snapped and his arms and he hung in a world of pain between the two Death Eaters.

Another voice entered his head besides his own screaming and at first he thought it was his parents. But the voice wasn't the one of the ones he used to hear around dementors. It was musical and lilting and focusing on it made the pain stop.

"Thank you… thank you for making them stop." Harry said with a cry. The cell had faded but his body felt so warm he couldn't focus on anything. The heat was making his vision spin and his eye's drifted closed against his will and he continually made them snap back open. Despite the heat he was glad to be back to this reality for now. He wasn't sure which was truly real, the cell or the elves but it seemed real enough for now.

"I need to tend to your back. Those wounds have become infected and it's causing your fever to rise." One of the elves said. Harry just stared trying to remember this elf. He thought he remember Aragorn introduce him as Elrond. He said he was his father. How did Aragorn, a man, have an elven father? He wondered what his own father would have said if he could see him now. Would Sirius claim a pointed-eared elf as a godson?

His eyes wandered about the room as his mind wandered. "My godson is not an elf. James wouldn't even know you now. I can't believe I gave my life for you to turn into this. I can't believe James and Lily died for …"

There was movement in the room that drew his eyes and mind away from the fevered scene in corner. Elrond took a step forward towards him.

Harry's eyes snapped back to focus on him and he recoiled slightly at the elf's advance.

"Come, little one. I'll be as gentle as I can but that infection has to be treated for your fever to go down." Elrond was talking again.

Elrond wanted to treat his back and lower his fever? He was a healer then? Harry consciously tried to keep his mind away from the obvious recollection of Madame Pomphrey and blinked repeated. The man hadn't hurt him yet but he was wary to let him or anyone get close but his back hurt. He wanted help and these elves were offering it or at least they said they were.

He needed to know the elf's intentions and knew one way to test them. He had mastered Occlumency years after Snape's less than helpful instruction, but Snape's forays into the art had unintentionally taught him the basics of legilimency. When he pondered the puzzle that was Severus Snape he sometimes wondered if that had been his intention. Snape had been a true Slytherin in the war. He was loyal to both and neither side entirely. He would develop a poison for Voldemort and give the other side the antidote. He exchanged information much the same way making sure that whichever side won he would be safe and alive. Harry never perfected legilimency as he disliked using it. Minds were meant to be private. But Harry wanted to believe in the help they were offering and locked eyes with the elf.

* * *

Elrond was beginning to think they had lost the elfling again when he had gone still in thought. Suddenly Elrond felt the mental contact and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Very few elves had such an ability. He knew only one who could do such a thing without the aid of one of the Rings and her power had later been greatly amplified by Nenya. He quickly recovered his composure and gently guided the elfling toward the information he was seeking. 

The others watched, slightly confused at the locked stares of the elfling and Lord Elrond.

"Father?" Elrohir asked quietly.

"Later" Elrond answered not looking to his son.

The elfling finally broke his stare and turned his body enough to give Elrond access to his back. His face turned to the wall.

"Elrohir go and collect that paste and some fresh bandages." Elrond said quietly, trying not to spook the elfling who had given him a very fragile trust.

Elrond approached slowly. And lay a hand on the bare neck free from wounds. The elfling jumped. He could feel the heat from the fever beneath his hand and began to rub circles with his fingers trying to get the young one used to his touch and relaxed. The elfling tensed further and was trembling like leaf in the wind. He wished this wouldn't hurt him as much as he knew it would.

Elrond unwrapped the first few layers of bandage holding the paste to the tattered skin and infected flesh. The last layer would peel off the outermost layer of scabbing and new skin.

"I'm sorry." Elrond muttered half to himself as the last layer of bandages began to peel away and the blood he had seen earlier ran free. He despaired at causing the elfling more pain but he didn't react to the additional pain except to close his eyes shut.

Finally Elrond spread the new paste over the much abused back and rewrapped it.

By now the elfling was slumped over with fatigue from fighting the pain and fever.

"Here father" Elrohir handed his father a cup with a blend of herbs steeped in water that would lessen the pain and fever.

"Drink this, little one. It will help." Elrond said offering the cup.

A shaking hand reached out tentatively. He was not strong enough to grasp the cup or keep it steady.

"I'll help you." Elrond said and placed his hand over the wasted one of Faervel and brought the cup to his lips. With one hand back on the elfling's neck he helped his to swallow the bitter tea. He did so without complaint and lowered back down to pillows in exhaustion.

Elrond replaced the coverlet that had been kicked off in the elfling's terror and covered him.

"Rest well, Faervel." Elrond said and led the others out of the room.

"What happened father? I didn't think he'd let you touch him so soon." Elrohir asked deciding now qualified as later. The others were also listening intently for an answer.

Elrond humored them. "He has some of your grandmother's power though he's tentative and unsure. He looked for my intentions. I'm glad he has such an ability otherwise we would have had to sedate him."

"Why would he use it now and not before?" Aragorn asked.

"I don't know. Perhaps now he wanted help." Elrond answered.

"He still hasn't eaten anything." Elladan commented.

"Going to offer that pastry, Elladan?" Elrohir chided. "The cook would probably forgive you if she knew it went to an elfling."

"Let him rest for now. One of us can take something in for him later." Elrond responded and moved down the hall.

"Faervel?" Elladan said looking at his twin in confusion.

"Your father named the little one last night." Glorfindel helped.

* * *

Servers moved between tables carrying food and drink. They perhaps heard more of the rumors than anyone else. The head table seating Elrond, his sons and Glorfindel wasn't giving out any information. 

"Will you tell them father?" Elrohir asked Elrond. They could all hear the rumors circulating.

Elrond listened to the talk amongst the tables at the feast. While they were supposed to be celebrating the safe return of his sons the conversation revolved around the injured elfling he was currently housing.

"The poor elfling was torn up by the Dwarves. Little than better than short bearded orcs!" A dark haired elf whispered to his neighbor.

A few rows to Elrond's another rumor reached his ears. "They're hiding it because whatever it is isn't an elf, at least not entirely elf. Who knows what it is."

"Yes, they will have to be told something of Faervel." Elrond replied

"But how much? News of a badly injured elfling would cause many of them to try to get close enough to see him. It would terrify him." Aragorn replied.

"Their curiosity would cause the same." Elrond said. "We will simply have to stay with him and keep him calm."

"He hasn't been alone since he arrived until now and I will return once you call this feast to an end." Glorfindel added.

Finally, Elrond stood to address those gathered there. "As many of you have no doubt heard Estel found an elfling in the wilds East of Rivendell. He as well as Elladan and Elrohir brought the elfling to Imladris. The elfling has been badly injured and is being healed. He will recover but his recovery will be long." Elrond didn't want to reveal how frightened the elfling was of everyone he met including the elves as he knew many would wish to know why and who was responsible. However, he also could not have them frightening Faervel.

"The injuries the elfling has sustained seem to indicate abuse or torture. We do not know who hurt him or for how long as he has not spoken of it yet. He is very frightened of anyone he comes in contact with. Leave him alone and he will join us when he is able." Elrond finished. He waited for the many questions that would arise.

Elrond's expected questions did indeed come in abundance from those gathered. So many that even elven hearing could only catch a few.

"Where is he?"

"What's his name?"

"Where will he stay?"

"What of his parents?"

"Is he truly frightened of us?"

"His name is Faervel and he will stay in the room he has been given until he is healed." Elrond replied and sat down ended the announcement and the feast.

"Great, now they'll plague us until their questions are answered." Elladan said quietly as his father reclaimed his seat.

"And you will tell them nothing further." Elrond said shortly. "Give Faervel time to tell us what he will before we speculate in public about him."

"They only wish to help. An elfling on Middle-Earth is something none of them thought to see again. That he comes here injured will have many taking up arms if they can decide on even the race of those who hurt him." Glorfindel said and quietly added "and I cannot blame them." He quietly rose on his way to the kitchen for some simpler fare to take to the injured elfling.

* * *

Harry's eyes were open and his head swam with his continued fever. The heat from his fever was making it hard to think or focus but he was staying out of his cell longer. Even if this was a dream world, it was a good dream. The voices here kept him out of his cage. And the pain wasn't as bad as it should have been if the Death Eaters were truly using the curses he heard. If only the fever would stop he could figure out if this world was actually real. 

"Hello Faervel." A blond-haired elf said as he walked into the room carrying a tray.

"Hello …" He paused, thinking. It was Glor-something or other. He couldn't remember many details like names. But he remembered the voice. It was a good voice.

"Glorfindel, little one." The elf said putting down a tray on the table beside him.

"I'm sorry" Harry said, unconsciously leaning away from the advancing elf. Why couldn't he remember?

"You don't have to be." Glorfindel said sitting lightly in a chair at the side of the bed. He picked up a cup and held it out to him. "It will help bring your fever down."

Harry wasn't so sure. Nothing seemed to bring his fever down and the last few potions he'd taken had been painful or helped the Death Eaters with their sport. Or they did in that world.

"Please take it. It will be easier for you to stay out of your memories if you aren't fighting that fever." Glorfindel pushed on.

His memories? Was he only remembering the cell and Death Eaters. He wasn't sure but it didn't seem that way. He hoped so and reached out only to find himself unable to hold the cup.

"Will you let me help you?" Glorfindel asked.

If the elf was right and this would keep him in this world than he wanted to take it. Harry nodded his head and felt the elf put a hand around his own. He trembled at the contact but the cup was brought to his lips and he swallowed the tea.

"There was a feast today in Elrond's house but I thought you might want something simpler. I brought you something to eat." Glorfindel said quietly gesturing to the food.

"No, I don't want to eat." Harry said loudly and quickly backed away with wide eyes. He had sworn not to after all and he was so tired he couldn't remember where he was when he had promised that.

"I'll leave the food for you. You can eat it whenever you want." Glorfindel said. Harry didn't move.

"Why? Will you tell me what they did when you had food?" The elf finally asked.

Harry closed his eyes. He could barely feel anything at this point he wasn't sure anything was real. But he found himself speaking. Whether it was to the elves or the Death Eaters he wasn't sure.

* * *

The elfling started speaking. Glorfindel wasn't sure if he was even aware of what he was saying but he wasn't going to interrupt to find out. 

"They always offered food. I wouldn't kill the people for it though. They promised a meal if I did. I'll never eat one, I promise." The elfling shuddered and Glorfindel wanted to mirror the action.

"I only ate bread. I had to be quiet or they started over again. First time they broke my fingers and left the bread on the floor. I stayed quiet that time." Glorfindel was glad the elfling's eyes were shut so he couldn't his expression. The elfling continued "After that they pressed hot metal to my feet. I couldn't stay quiet so they said they would have to put pieces of wood in my feet instead. It was so hard to stay quiet but I did and they left the bread again."

Glorfindel understood and sincerely wished the elfling would stop now. How had he survived? Faervel indeed, he was more aptly named than Elrond could have imagined.

The elfling was still speaking of horrors Glorfindel couldn't fathom but his voice was growing softer and more distant.

"Never again, Faervel. If I have hunt down and kill every one of them you will never be hurt again." Glorfindel promised the unconscious elfling and himself.

The door to the room swung open a few hours later and Elrond entered with his sons.

"How is he Glorfindel?" Elrond asked.

"His fever was high again. I helped him take the tea you left." Glorfindel responded.

"I think his fever is making it harder for him to figure out where he is." Glorfindel added.

"I'm sure it is. Those herbs aren't working as well as I'd like. We need to treat him more often." Elrond responded. "I'm glad he let you help him though."

"Couldn't get him to eat?" Aragorn asked noticing the untouched tray. "I only ever got him to accept bread when we were traveling."

Glorfindel closed his eyes in pain at Estel's comment.

"Glorfindel?" Elrond asked observing the odd gesture.

"He told me. I don't think he knew what he was saying but he told me why he would not eat." Glorfindel said trying to prepare an edited version of the tale he had just heard.

* * *

A/N: If you find spelling mistakes or a missing word let me know and please tell me what word and paragraph its in. I could read this a hundred times and not catch them. I'm horrible at proofing my own stuff after all I know what it should say. I've read it many, many times. 

For those of you wondering when this is taking place in Middle-Earth history, I haven't changed the history of Arda or the elves. I've also left a few clues as to the time period and more specific ones will follow.

Thank you for all the reviews and motivation to get this out there. I will be updating my other fic soon as well but this one wanted my focus lately.


	8. The Telling of Tales

The Power of Magic and Elves

Disclaimer: Not mine. Even a few lines ahmm... 'borrowed' straight from Tolkien and they would be the really nice sounding lines.

Chapter 8: The Telling of Tales

Elladan was watching the elfling that morning. He had given him a tea to bring down his fever and the elfling had eaten some broth since it was the only thing they could get him to accept. Apparently he hadn't been tortured for soup. Elladan had felt sick himself when Glorfindel related the tale.

Elladan didn't try to get him to talk. He was sure the others were doing so. He was trying to keep the elfling's mind off his memories by supplying his own rather embellished memories.

"You should have seen Estel when he was learning how to shoot. The safest place to be was with the target. When you get to the range take a look behind you at the stables. There is a green fletched arrow sticking out of the first pillar. That was the last arrow Estel ever shot. Don't misunderstand; Estel is great in a fight. He excels with a sword or knives. You'll have to watch him spar sometime and make your own opinion. But I believe Glorfindel used to carry a shield around with him just in case, before he completely gave up on teaching him to shoot." Elladan told the elfling. He was fully engrossed in the tale he was spinning. The elfling lay quietly, his eyes had nearly closed. He fever had dropped some and Glorfindel, Elrond and his sons were taking shifts constantly monitoring him and dosing it when needed. After several days the infection on his back was beginning to heal but the elfling couldn't stay awake for long. He had a lot of strength to regain and fell asleep quickly.

"And perhaps I should tell him about your attempts with that bow you stole from Pilimor when you wanted to learn to shoot? I told you that you were still too young but no you wouldn't believe me until you nearly shot your foot. Though how you managed such a thing with a longbow I will never understand." Glorfindel said coming into the room.

"Oh don't listen to blond-haired ancient over there. He thinks because he slayed a Balrog he's the ultimate authority on fighting. Personally I think the trip back to Middle Earth addled his memory a bit. I was a natural the first time I had a bow in my hands." Elladan replied cheekily. The elfling had closed his eyes entirely and they lowered their voices.

"How is he?" Glorfindel asked.

"He was awake for a little while but I didn't ask him anything. I'm not sure I could take hearing what he might tell me if I did. I just told him stories and Estel is a bad shot." Elladan answered with half a grin.

"Yes, but I never carried a shield." Glorfindel responded.

"No, you just jumped behind trees." Elladan replied with a smirk.

Glorfindel lifted an eyebrow in reply and swiftly changed the subject. "Is his fever down?"

"I gave him the tea earlier he rested quieted afterwards. I just kept talking to keep him here." Elladan replied, shaking his head slowly. "I don't think I could have survived what he did."

"I'll stay with him now. Go on Elladan." Glorfindel said gently.

Elladan just nodded and walked to the door.

"Sometimes I'd swear he wasn't older than a hundred and fifty." Glorfindel said as he took the seat Elladan had left.

"Did he really almost shoot his foot?" A soft voice asked from the bed.

Glorfindel was a little surprised that Faervel heard what they had said. They thought he was asleep.

"No, I suppose he didn't. The arrow didn't have enough speed to shoot anything." Glorfindel replied. "We thought you were sleeping you know."

"I know. I'm sorry." Harry said. Sometimes he felt like he had returned to the days of the Dursleys. Despite believing that these people weren't here to torture him he still felt the need to be cautious and apologize for any possible wrong as though they would turn on him for the slightest oversight. He was uncomfortable with all the attention they paid him. He never lived in a normal home and he was once again the weakest and youngest in the house and this was the most natural response for him. Perhaps he would have retained that behavior in the Wizarding world if they hadn't expected him to play the part of the untouchable hero. Now though, they didn't expect him to rescue them from an evil they didn't want to admit existed and Harry was content to never return to that lifestyle. Others could fight and kill now.

"It's alright. Do you remember telling me about why you wouldn't eat?" Glorfindel said keeping his voice light.

"I remember telling someone something but I don't remember where I was or who I told." Harry said. The days before now were all a haze. He wasn't sure what had been real or where he had been. He remembered being back with the Death Eaters but maybe the cell was just in his mind. He even thought he remembered hearing Sirius, Remus and the twins at one point but unless this was Heaven that was impossible. Then again so was turning into an elf.

"You were here. You've been here for a week now." Glorfindel said. He wondered where else the elfling thought he had been.

"I thought I'd been back there." He said quietly to himself. So the cell was just in his mind now? It had seemed so real. Perhaps this was worse though he carried it with him and could return any moment. His mind had betrayed him and trapped him as efficiently as the Death Eaters had. It would be Voldemort's lasting revenge.

"I know. We've been trying to talk to you. It seemed to help you stay out of your memories." Glorfindel said watching the young and still sunken face carefully. He didn't want the elfling to fall into those memories again.

"I've heard voices different from theirs. They always led me out. I heard yours and Aragorn's telling me about Imladris." He paused a moment remembering. "Thank you."

"We were glad to help, Faervel." Glorfindel said.

"Why do you call me that?" Harry asked. He knew he had been called that a few times and hadn't wanted to ask about it but Glorfindel seemed to want him to talk.

"It means strong spirit. You may not remember but Lord Elrond named you that the day you came to Rivendell." Glorfindel gently reminded him. They had had to do this several times while his fever raged but the fever was lessening a little now or just being treated more often.

"Are you tired?" He asked noticing the elfling difficulty in keeping his eyes open

The elfling nodded. "I don't want to go back there." He said with fear in his eyes. Sleep would mean his mind could take hold and he didn't know if he would wake outside of that cell.

"You won't. I'll stay with you. I'll tell you about Eärendil." Glorfindel said.

"You don't have to stay. I'll be fine on my own." Harry didn't want to be left alone to become trapped in that cell but the elf must have other things to do besides staying with him. And Harry had plans of his own. Elladan had mentioned the Great Library that Rivendell held. Or rather he had mentioned some mischief that involved it. He wanted to explore that library and learn more about this world. He needed to blend into the background of this place but couldn't do that until he understood it more but now was not the time. For now though he was tired and perhaps he would give in and let Glorfindel keep him out of that cell while he slept. He could make plans later when he wasn't so tired.

"I want to, little one." Glorfindel said. "Just rest."

He waited until the elfling closed his eyes and began the tale. "Eärendil lived in Gondolin with his parents. He and his parents escaped the sacking of the city and they settled in Arvernien. Many years past for Eärendil, and he became the leader of his people. He married a young maiden name Elwing and they had two sons. One of them you have met. Lord Elrond and his brother Elros were their sons." Glorfindel watched as the elfling finally relaxed, safely in a story that would keep him from his nightmares and Glorfindel continued. "Eärendil built a ship, called Vingilot that he sailed about the west seas of Middle-Earth leaving his wife behind. While he was sailing his people were attacked for the Silmaril that Elwing received from her Father, Beren. Rather than be killed Elwing threw herself into the sea but she did not die."

Glorfindel ended his story with a gentle smile on his face. "Eärendil sails the heavens, guarding the Door of Night through which Morgoth had been cast. He wears upon his brow the shining Silmaril, visible from the Earth as a bright star."

From the door, Elrond heard Glorfindel's tale and added "But when first Vingilot was set to sail in the seas of heaven, it rose unlooked for, glittering and bright; and the people of Middle-earth beheld it from afar and wondered, and they took it for a sign, and called it Gil-Estel, the Star of High Hope."

"Hello Elrond." Glorfindel said, not looking up at the visitor.

"Should that not be my tale to tell?" Elrond said with a smile.

"You can tell him of Beren and Luthien still. And I imagine he won't remember much of this story either since he fell asleep just after you were born." Glorfindel said with a chuckle and left Elrond to watch over Faervel.

"Get them around an elfling and they all seem to lose a few thousand years." Elrond said muttering.

Noticing his sleeping charge Elrond moved into the next room keeping the door open so he could hear Faervel if he woke or stirred in his sleep. There were salves and potions that needed restocking and the tasks would keep him occupied.

A gentle knock on the door caused him to pause in the middle of filling a glass container.

"Come in." He called.

"Good evening milord." A dark-haired elf entered the room.

"Hello Erestor." Elrond welcomed his advisor and friend.

"So that is the elfling that all of Imladris is waiting to see. I believe a few of the maidens have been making clothes and toys nonstop since they heard. I imagine the other realms will be much the same once they find out about him. I believe we are lucky that winter is nearly upon us or we might be inundated with guests." Erestor said with a glace into the other room.

"Yes, I imagine I will hear from Lothlórien shortly with a reprimand for not alerting the Lady of that wood sooner." Elrond said with a smile.

"You could contact her first you know. Her wrath might be lessened if you did." Erestor said with a grin.

"I believe I'll wait and see how long it takes for the news to travel. Hopefully the snow will have come by then and her wrath will have to be content with the long distance conversation." Elrond said.

When Erestor simply responded with a shake of his head, Elrond commented further, "Your curiosity is not so great as the others, Erestor. I know you did not come just to see him. What brings you here?"

"The last of the scouts have come back from marking the spread of the orcs." Erestor told him.

"They have moved out, though not far yet. There seems to be some evil at work planning their movements." Erestor reported.

"Gather the scouts in my study and I'll join you shortly." Elrond said.

"Yes, milord" Erestor responded and left the room.

Elrond glanced out at Faervel. The elfling hadn't woken yet. He'd send someone to watch him during their meeting.

* * *

Harry woke and there was no one in his room. There was a fire in the fireplace but it wasn't dark yet. 

He wondered where Cera had gotten to. The elves probably wouldn't recognize her or allow her to enter Rivendell and he couldn't get to her until he could leave these rooms and walk back out into the forest. He did not think Glorfindel or the others would allow him to do so.

Perhaps he could go and find Cera now. He was worried for his friend. The elves would not know she wasn't a threat to them.

He pushed the covers aside and swung his legs off the side of the bed. His splinted leg hit the floor with much less pain then he remembered. He was wearing a loose high collared long tunic. Piled on a chair near the door were some cloths in a similar make. He made his way to them and selected a few plainer pieces that would fit him and keep him warm out of doors.

The hallway outside his room was empty and quiet. Still he fought the urge to cast a disillusionment charm. From the stories he was hearing, elves used a certain type of magic. Good thing, since he had used legilimency before becoming conscious enough to think about the consequences of exposing that type of ability. As it was Harry knew he found the information far too quickly for it to be explained by Elrond just having a well organized mind. He resolved not to use his magic anymore than the elves used magic. He promised himself that he would not stand out again. He wasn't this world's hero.

He wasn't sure which direction the exit lay in but decided to head to his right. The corridor was unremarkable with white walls and no decoration except the wooden ceiling which was carved with patterns that looked faintly Celtic to him. He passed some empty rooms. Footsteps assaulted his ears and he ducked into a room to avoid whoever they belonged to. It was better to know who you faced before entering a conflict. The footsteps belonged to an elf walking by carrying a few books. It took him a few moments to calm his racing heart. He needed to get control of his reactions. The elves weren't going to hurt him and this wasn't a recon mission or horcrux hunt.

He set out again and quickly found the source of those books. There was the Great Library that Elladan had mentioned. Or rather he had mentioned some mischief that involved it. He wanted to explore that library later on and learn more about this world. He needed to blend into the background of this place but couldn't do that until he understood it more but now was not the time. Voices were coming from a room off the library though and Harry's Gryffindor recklessness got the better of him. He hid in the shadows just outside the door to listen.

"The orcs are multiplying and spreading. I tracked a group south into Dunland. I wonder if Saruman knows he has orcs near the border of Isengard." Said one voice.

Harry wondered what orcs were. Since the elves seemed so concerned about them and where they were headed. The names of Saruman and Isengard went over his head as well.

"I watched a company of Rohirrim kill a group of them south of Fangorn. The orcs seemed to be headed to one of the villages no doubt to raze it to the ground, but the riders got to orcs first." This sounded like one of Elrond's twin sons and answered one question Harry had.

"Why are the orcs multiplying now? There is no one to lead their brand of evil." Orcs seemed to be this world's version of low level Death Eaters. Driven to cause death and destruction but with little ambition or intelligence of their own.

"You forget Erestor that Sauron is not dead, his life force is bound to that ring and the ring, though lost, still survives." This raised all kinds of warning sparks for Harry. Voldemort, after all, survived for 13 years because his soul had been split and stored away and those pieces still lived.

"Are orcs stirring in Mordor?" Elrond asked this. Harry wondered what Mordor was and why it was said with a caution and bitterness that Harry usually reserved for Riddle.

"I travelled within sight of the Black Gates and orcs are travelling into Mordor. But there has been no more trouble with the orcs in Gondor than their usual mayhem causes." This was Glorfindel's voice and it caused the others to pause.

"There is little we can do but watch and attempt to counter Sauron if that is indeed who is behind the spreading of orcs."

The elves in the room began to stir and Harry knew his hiding place wouldn't last much longer. He left the library promising to return. He needed to learn the history of this place so that he could understand what was going on and how to survive in this new world. If Hermione had taught him anything it was the power to be found in books. He only wished he had learned a little sooner.

Harry hid in another empty room off the main hallway and watched as a few of the elves left the room they had all been gathered in. Not many left so perhaps the topic of the conversation had changed and only involved those remaining. He didn't see Elrond or Glorfindel leave neither did the twins or Aragorn though Harry was certain he had heard their voices at some point.

Harry left the room. A little further down the empty hallway he passed more branching corridors and a hall that could only lead to the kitchens if the smell of baking bread was anything to go by. Harry cringed and forced himself to remember his task of finding Cera until the smells died down again. He couldn't afford a flashback now or he would never get to the forest.

Finally after a few wrong turns he saw trees and fading daylight. There were a few elves in the courtyard but most seemed to be headed inside. He quickly skirted the border of the courtyard sticking to the shadows of the trees hoping to remain unseen. He made it to the forest entrance and headed out.

The canopy overhead was barer than he remembered it being when he first got here. He wandered out enjoying the trees and the landscape of Rivendell for the moment. Cera would find him before he found her. The griffin always seemed to know when he was looking for her if she ever managed to stay away for any length of time.

Cera was odd for a griffin. Most griffins were solitary creatures or lived with a small family since the prey in any one area couldn't support many a large population of griffins. They came together to mate and rear young and then parted. Very few had ever bonded to a wizard though history said that Gryffindor had one as a familiar.

His thoughts wandered as he did. The elves had mentioned the evil of the orcs and a being called Sauron. But right now the elves were content to watch and wait. This is what the Wizarding world had done as soon as they started casting labels. The boy-who-lived had taken care of he-who-must-not-be-named. The people involved were untouchable now and nothing more need be done. It had led them to their destruction and would do so again. Even Dumbledore's vaulted order had only watched and reacted after the fact. Even while they were being killed off one by one they were seemingly content to watch the enemy grow.

He had been wondering just why his magic had brought him here of all places. If this Sauron that the elves had mentioned had truly created a horcrux or something like it he would have to do something or at the very least teach someone what he knew about them. He didn't want to become involved in another war but maybe he could help from the sidelines without having to fight and kill anymore. It was sad but war and conflict were what he knew best. It was all he knew but he could guide some other hero through it this time. He was beginning to believe Albus's theories about the sentience of magic.

If his mentor's theories were correct, magic tried to create a balance of power such that if a great force of evil exists in a universe a great force of good must exist as well and if it does not it must be created or brought in. He knew he had been created by that prophecy but perhaps he was the latter now.

The sun was starting to set adding to the brightly colored leaves in the trees. Harry was beginning to tire and his leg was sore, hopefully Cera would find him soon he didn't want to return without her.

* * *

Glorfindel, Erestor, Elrond, and his sons stayed to speak further of the orcs and happenings in Rivendell and abroad. They were relaxing next to fire in Elrond's study. Winter was truly coming even in Rivendell and it was cold after nightfall. 

"I came through Lothlórien on my return. Haldir was complaining of the rotations of guards and must have spent hours questioning me on the spread of orcs near the golden woods. I half wished a few of the filth had followed me into those woods. It might have distracted him from his questioning." Elladan said with a laugh at the over vigilant elf.

"They are not so fortunate as we. They are near to Moria and the evil that drove out the dwarves. And did you not say that orcs are pillaging west of Fangorn. I would have cornered you as well, Elladan." Glorfindel replied.

"I know. I know. You cornered Elrohir quickly enough when we were so intent on finding father a week ago." Elladan replied to Glorfindel rebuke.

"Speaking of Lothlórien, have you informed grandmother of Faervel presence here?" Elrohir asked his father.

Erestor laughed at the repeat of his suggestion. "No, he has not. I believe he wishes it to snow so he may avoid facing her wrath in person for a time." Elrond simply raised an eyebrow at the laughter at his expense.

"How has Faervel been of late?" Aragorn asked.

"He seems to healing quickly now. His back has healed and his leg is stronger. He was asleep when I saw him today. I sent Meresel in to check on him. I believe she was going to take him some clothes that were made for him." Elrond said.

"What will become of him? He will certainly heal but where will he stay? He has no family." Elladan asked. He was curious to see if his father had become enamored enough to adopt again.

"He will stay in Imladris were we can watch over him." Glorfindel answered quickly.

There was a pause in the room.

"I will take…" Elrond and Glorfindel had both started to claim the elfling into their house. Glorfindel turned to search his friend's expression and found surprise and something else there that he couldn't name. Elrond and Glorfindel matched gazes for a moment before the door swept open ending the silent discussion.

"My Lords?" One of the guards appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, Hirvegil? Elrond and Glorfindel answered in unison once again. Both turned to the guard in question. Elrond was the lord of Imladris but Glorfindel was a lord in his own right and often found himself in charge of the guards and responding to their reports.

"One of the guards reported that he thought he saw the elfling head toward the forest an hour ago. When he didn't come back he asked me to inform you and he left to track him through the woods." Hirvegil reported.

"Which guard?" Glorfindel asked.

"Pilimor, my lord." The guard responded.

* * *

A/N: So who shall it be Elrond... Glorfindel... Neither... Both (that could be odd)? 

Yes, I heard the reviewers who got a little tired of the angst. I did too. But I wanted to set up a Harry that was very (hey that rhymed) damaged by war. Besides it earned him the sympathy of the elves quickly and imagine all the mothering they'll do. Also as inquired about: here is Erestor for you, and the questions about Harry's mental age were addressed a bit. You'll have to form your own opinions on how you think an aged, war weary and tortured Harry would act compared to my Harry. And thus answers the question of Cera's loneliness or at least my answer for it.

To those wanting to know how old Harry is, his magic didn't leave a handy cheatsheet with notes on what it had done to him safetypinned to his robes. Of course this is only covering up the fact that I don't know how old Harry is. He is currently less than 4 feet tall but elves are Tall buggers according to Tolkien and he never settled on how they age. So I'm going with they age somewhat slower than humans and than stop aging all together.

To the group wanting a date for middle-earth I don't know the exact date either (I'm apparently not a very knowledgeable author). I have left clues along the way such as the age of Glorfindel's horse which he rides to rescue Frodo in Fellowship (the book, Arwen rides in the movie to my eternal sadness) and now the clues in this chapter.

And finally a shout out of thanks for reminding me about the probably reaction of the other groups of Elves. Poor Elrond forgot to tell the mother-in-law!

Thanks once again for the motivation.


	9. Wrath

The Power of Magic

Disclaimer: Still not mine. I'd like to claim Cera though just because she's fun. I want one!

Chapter 9: Wrath

The sun had just set completely and Harry sat on the ground with his back to a tree. He had traveled quite a distance from Rivendell and his leg was starting to really ache now. As much as he griped about taking potions from Madame Pomfrey, healing the muggle way was so much slower even if magic sped it up a bit. He rested against the tree and decided he would simply enjoy his time in the woods until Cera found him and he would head back. It was getting cold but the cloak kept him warm.

This forest was different from the Forbidden Forest. It was dark and oppressive in there. The peace of Rivendell seemed enhanced in the wood and plant-life around. He imagined he could almost see the peaceful energy they emanated. Not only that but this place felt more alive. Like the tree behind him could tell him when the first snow would fall and how many flowers would bloom in the spring if only he knew how to ask.

A twig snapped in the distance and Harry jerked his head in the direction it had come from. He could see well even in the dark. 'Must be an elf thing' he thought to himself. But he couldn't see anyone. Harry stood and started walking again away from the snapped twig constantly searching for whatever might be following him.

Leaves closer to him rustled and Harry broke into a jog careful not to make any noise of his own. The adrenaline at least had the benefit of dulling the pain in his leg.

He had just resolved not to use magic and this was certainly a test but instincts from years of fighting a guerrilla war had left him well prepared to evade whatever this was.

* * *

Elrond, Glorfindel, Aragorn and the twins mounted horses and Hirvegil led them to the place Pilimor had started his search from. The trail was easy to follow as the guard would have wanted to leave enough evidence for someone else to follow if they choose. The trail led north and east. 

"Let's hope we find him soon or he changes direction." Elladan said. They were headed toward land inhabited by trolls.

"Do you think he'd run from Pilimor if he found him?" Elrohir asked.

"I don't know. He's been more trusting of late." Elrond replied. "Perhaps that trust could be applied to other problems. We need to discover what happened to him soon." He added

"I rather hope he finds that griffin. Though the trouble that creature could cause in Rivendell would more than equal anything we ever did." Elladan said with a smile.

"If he does find that griffin we may have no trail to follow. I imagine that creature stayed to the ground only because horses do not have wings." Aragorn said

This quickened everyone's pace.

"Look there." Glorfindel said looking upward to a figure glinting in the moonlight. It was Cera flying above the tree tops. She did not have the elfling on her back.

"Perhaps she will take us to him faster than Pilimor's trail will."

"We will follow her" Elladan said and he, Elrohir and Aragorn broke away from the two lords, urging their horses to follow the flying griffin.

Glorfindel and Elrond continued to track the guard's trail. It was taking them further into Troll territory and the woods here were thicker. The horses' breath could be seen as the temperature dropped. The two lords picked up the previous contention between them.

"Glorfindel, I know you care for that elfling and I do not doubt your ability to protect him but you have never raised an elfling. And this one will be more difficult than most." Elrond prompted his companion.

"Have you seen something of his future?" Glorfindel asked reigning in his horse. Elrond had the gift of foresight and perhaps had seen something for the young elf they were tracking.

"I have not. But future I sense is less dim around him. The evil casting it's shadow onto Middle Earth clears and is driven back by him. There is some great power in Faervel." Elrond responded with a faraway look.

"I am willing to help him even into the heart of that shadow. But he may not let us decide at all." Glorfindel paused looking up to the stars. It was true he had not raised an elfling but he felt drawn to this one. Elrond though had family and experience and all of Imladris to aid him. He conceded "you may bring him into your House but I will stay close to him. You have more family to offer him than I."

The two rode in silence a little longer pondering what the other had said.

"Is that Pilimor?" Glorfindel asked seeing light reflect off of something ahead of them.

The two urged the horses faster until they reached the elf.

"Hail, Pilimor." Elrond called out.

"My Lords." The dark-haired elf replied in greeting. Pilimor had been a guard of Imladris for many hundreds of years. "His trail is not easy to track. He takes care to not disturb the leaves and branches and has moved quickly through the wood." The guard said pointing out the direction he had tracked the elfling in.

"We must follow as we can and hope he turns from the Troll caves just north of here." Elrond replied and the three continued their hunt.

* * *

Harry no longer heard whatever had broken the twig and stirred the leaves. He was coming up to some caves however and if they were empty he thought he might stay the night in the shelter. He had found an old path that looked to have become over-grown in recent years. He wondered what could have created such a path out in the wilds and then abandoned it. 

Nevertheless he followed the trail. It wound through thick underbrush and between rocks.

There was a clearing ahead the moon lit the area and reflected off of some object. He was nearing the caves however and was cautious. Who knows what creatures would dwell in caves in this land. Surely they would not be as well-meaning as the grim that lived in a cave near Hogsmead for a time.

As he neared the clearing he could make out shapes sitting in a circle. They were large and thick but didn't seem to sense him yet. Harry wondered just the creatures were and crept a little closer.

A stick cracked beneath his foot and his breath caught in his throat.

* * *

Cera was at least flying in a straight path now. She had been playing about the treetops grabbing their tops with her talons and claws. She seemed to sense her followers and spiraled down to meet them. 

"Cera, can you take us to him? He isn't healed and there are dangerous creatures in these hills." Aragorn pleaded with the griffin.

At the dangerous creature comment, Cera threw her head back and let out a short call as if to say she was one of these dangerous creatures. Still she began her trek toward her friend on the ground now for the horsemen to better follow.

"Why did he come this way? Is he looking for danger?" Elladan asked as the trees grew thicker and the path narrower. They were moving ever closer to the caves and the trolls that inhabited them.

* * *

The creatures didn't stir. In fact, they seemed unnaturally still. 

Knowing whatever they were had to have heard his approach Harry moved closer, his Gryffindor curiosity urging him to solve this particular mystery.

"Ha!" he laughed to himself. His unnaturally still hulking creatures were made of stone. They might have been creatures or based off of them at one time but now a half-made bird's nest sat in the crook between the ear and head of one. A second one was missing a chunk of stone from its elbow. They were certainly ugly things. He suddenly had a flash of a similar creature storming into a girl's bathroom with a club raised over its head.

"swish and flick" Harry said to himself recalling how that incident had cemented a friendship that alternately kept him sane and drove him mad over the years. A friendship that he missed all the more now that it seemed his adventures had just started again.

For a moment he amused himself thinking about what the other two members of the Golden Trio would say if they were here now.

Ron would still be laughing about their paranoia over a set of stone figures or perhaps finding a branch to serve as the stone troll's club to decorate them further. When he finished laughing he'd use the figures for target practice to punish them for inciting his paranoia in the first place. Harry would dismally fail at trying not to laugh.

Hermione would never have made it out of the library in Elrond's house. Harry smiled picturing her bent over some book feverishly tucking her hair behind her ears so she could better see the pages. When he and Ron returned she would beckon them over to see some passage that particularly interested her and spend the next half hour explaining it to them at which point they would yawn and nod to placate her.

How he missed them. Harry looked up to see the stars. They had always comforted him. But even the stars were different here. There was no Sirius glimmering down as if laughing over some newly planned prank. He wished the odd stars were righted again.

Harry sat down with his back against the stone troll to rest his leg. A few tears trailed down his cheeks. He hadn't had time during the war to mourn; it wasn't conducive to fighting Death Eaters. And when he had been captured he hadn't stayed conscious long enough to recall their deaths.

The weather stirred growing colder and clouds rolled in to obscure the moon and unfamiliar stars from his sight. He was grateful that the weather seemed to heed his wish to hide from the unfamiliar stars. For a moment he could imagine that the stars were the same and raised a finger to trace the patterns of constellations that would be there.

Harry fell asleep in the clearing dreaming that he could see Sirius's grey eyes twinkling from the stars. That Orion's faithful companion had returned to the night sky to watch over him and reassure him.

* * *

"Elrond?" Glorfindel asked his companion. The Lord of Imladris had halted his mount and seemed to be listening to a far off voice. 

Elrond made no response to Glorfindel.

"I do not know but there is some power to this veil." Elrond spoke quietly just barely audible to Glorfindel.

The blond elf smiled. "So what does the lady of the Golden Wood have to say?" he asked not expecting an answer at the moment. Galadriel had the power to speak into the minds of others though usually not those so far away. She could contact Elrond because they were connected through the rings that they wore.

_"Yes, the veiling that the stars wear so willingly was made for some purpose yet I cannot sense it." _Galadriel's ethereal voice spoke into Elrond's mind.

Elrond had some idea of who that purpose revolved around but wasn't ready to broach that suggestion nor did he know the purpose.

_"Tell me Elrond, what is it that you are seeking?" _Galadriel asked

Oh course, that she would sense. Elrond sighed and belatedly took Erestor's advice. "An elfling was found and brought to me. He wondered out of Rivendell into the Trollshaws tonight."

_"An Elfling? Surely we would know if an elfling had been born to Middle-Earth." _Galadriel paused as if accepting the unexpected information._ "How did he become lost? The gaze of every elf in Imladris must have been following him." _

"He was brought to me a week ago by my sons to be healed. They found wondering in the wilds and injured. But he was fearful of us. I asked that he be left to the care of a few until he became more trusting." Elrond replied.

_"And of his parents, what do you know?" _Galadriel asked.

"I don't know who they are. He says they are dead." Elrond replied.

_"That he does not trust the Eldar is worrying. Have you discovered how he came to be injured?" _Galadriel asked, worried over the fate of this young one as well, but displeased that the late information had prevented her from aiding in his care and search.

"I have not been able to ask but from what he has said in a fever, he was held captive and tortured. I know he will not eat because of it and will not allow many to approach him." Elrond replied.

_"And he is lost in the wilds once again?" _Galadriel asked, even her mentally projected voice becoming clipped in displeasure.

"Yes." Elrond replied shortly. There was little else he could have done. The elfling's fear of others was crippling the elves ability to protect him as he saw the elves themselves as a threat.

_"And was there a reason you did not inform myself or the other realms. We have as much right to protect and avenge him as those of your House." _Galadriel said, her tone darkening further.

"I did not know if he would even live, my Lady. He was lost in fever and the shadows of his past until recently." Elrond answered gravely.

_"This change in the skies heralds snow or I would descend to Imladris with guards enough to avenge him as soon as Haldir could make them ready to leave_." Galadriel replied. _"We will arrive as soon as the spring clears the Mountain pass."_ And with that her presence was withdrawn and the conversation ended.

"I did not know you had held so little hope for Faervel." Glorfindel said sadly.

"You would hardly leave his side and I was not going to say so in his hearing." Elrond replied. "He is truly strong to have survived so much. Most would have perished."

"I know." Glorfindel said. Most elves would indeed have perished or set sail into the west from the Grey Harbors as Elrond's wife had done after being tortured by orcs. His inability to heal her enough to remain in Middle-Earth still haunted Elrond. Perhaps that was the reason Elrond clung to another tortured elf.

"My lords, the trail follows a path just ahead." Pilimor said, returning to them from scouting out the elfling's path.

They followed him along an over grown trail that he indicated.

* * *

A piercing cry broke the stillness of the woods. 

Harry awoke and the two groups converged on him.

Elrond, Glorfindel and Pilimor left their horses and joined Elrond's sons who had come from the other direction.

"Cera" he called out seeing his griffin friend. "Where have you been girl? I missed you."

The griffin lifted her front talons and released a thin length of wood. It was Holly and about 13 inches long. She ruffled the feathers on her chest and Harry understood. She was trying to provide him with the parts to make a wand.

"No Cera." He said quickly with a measure of fright. Holly and griffin feather would be more temperamental than his old wand but certainly be powerful especially in a battle or undertakings that did not require finesse. After all, griffins were creatures of magical brute strength not the passive but magically powerful phoenix.

"I can't Cera not again. Not here too." He told his helpful friend. She grabbed the length of rough wood from the ground and pushed it back towards him again. She wasn't going to let this go.

"Alright Cera. Later though. Not right now." Harry told her. Making a wand didn't mean he had to use it. She seemed to accept this.

The elves and Aragorn were watching the interaction highly confused at what was going on.

"So that's a griffin?" Glorfindel asked.

"Interesting creature isn't she?" Elladan responded.

"I do not believe I have ever heard a tale of such a creature as that." Elrond added agreeing with his son.

The elfling picked up the wood and placed in a pocket of the cloak he wore. Finally, the young elf looked up at them his eyes locked on the new elf, the only one among them that he hadn't met before.

"Faervel, you are not healed yet and these woods are dangerous. That stone creature you lean against has counterparts in these woods and they did not get caught out in the sun." Elrond admonished. He would bring the elfling into his House soon and it was his responsibility to keep him safe.

Huh? Harry could only blink at that explanation. Ok, so trolls turned to stone in the sunlight here. Interesting. He wondered if a Lumos spell would have the same effect. That would neutralize the creatures quickly in a battle. He shook his head at the turn of his thoughts. He was not here to fight. He did not wish to see death and battle again. Cera let out a pleased roaring '_Craw'_ as though she knew exactly where his train of thought had taken him.

"Enough Cera. And no, there is no need." He quietly admonished his all too smug companion.

He returned his attention to the waiting elves and human, his eyes locked on the new elf, the only one he hadn't met before. "I'm sorry. I wanted to find Cera. I didn't think that you would let her into Rivendell." He told them glancing over to Elrond as he spoke. Harry returned to watching the new elf intently trying to determine his intentions.

Elrond followed the elfling's gaze until his eyes landed on Pilimor.

"This is Pilimor. He is one of the guards of Imladris. He followed your trail when he saw you leave and alerted us that you were missing." Elrond responded to the unspoken question.

Harry said nothing and continued his observation of the elf, Pilimor. He obviously dwelled in Rivendell and was trusted by Elrond. But then Peter had been trusted by his parents and Snape had been trusted by Dumbledore. Trust was a dangerous thing.

"You should have told someone you wanted to come here. When you were better healed we would have taken you into the woods to find her. We cannot keep you safe if you wander alone." Elrond said shortly. The elfling would need to understand that he had protectors now and did not have to rely only on himself. Others were responsible for his safety now but he needed to let them protect him and concentrate on healing the damage done to him.

Harry did not respond. For a moment the twinkling eyes of Dumbledore shone out of Elrond's dark orbs. The same reason had kept members of the Order of the Phoenix stationed outside his relative's home and prevented him from learning about the prophecy until it was too late.

Harry's walk through the woods and over-hearing of the council on the spread of orcs had cleared his head and brought him back to the reality he was facing. He was no longer looking to die now. He had accepted that he had a responsibility to magic itself if some force of evil had truly created a horcrux. He wasn't willing to fight but he could find a way to share what he knew, to help someone destroy the thing and protect the inhabitants of this world. But to keep him safe he would undoubtedly be lock him up in Rivendell and watched so closely that he could not leave. He wouldn't become captive again. And he couldn't let action be taken too late.

"It's going to snow soon. We need to return to Rivendell." Glorfindel said gently. Elrond's admonishments weren't helping and waiting for him to turn his worry into wrath would only scare the elfling off.

"Come Faervel." Elrond commanded as he motioned towards the horse he had ridden into the clearing. The horse approached him for Elrond and the elfling to mount.

He sighed looking up at Elrond. He had trusted Elrond to heal him but in war trust had to be compartmentalized and he needed distance from Elrond's wish to keep him locked away. He stood and placed a hand on Cera looking at her as if in question. She lowered her head in answer. She would help him walk. They wouldn't be able to move quickly anyway. Pilimor had come on foot.

"Alright. Let's head back to Rivendell." Aragorn said. Of all those watching he was the only one to understand the elfling's gestures toward the griffin. He had seen it before.

Aragorn returned to his horse and mounted. The others looked to him in confusion but Faervel walked beside the griffin leaning his weight on the creature's back until he reached the trailhead.

"Faervel, that leg is not healed and walking on it further will not help it. Please let's ride back. The griffin is welcome to follow us to Rivendell." Elrond said. Strong spirit indeed. It was going to show in more than just the elfling's unwillingness to succumb to injury. He wondered what had caused the lack of trust now.

The griffin blew out air and kneeled as if in response to Elrond. Harry climbed onto the griffin's back and waited. The others finally understood and mounted their horses and followed Aragorn. Harry waited until Pilimor had passed him mounted on the back of Elladan's horse, and joined the line heading back to Rivendell. Only Glorfindel remained behind him.

* * *

A/N: Once again, thanks for the motivation to keep working away at this chapter despite my dislike of how it was turning out at first. 

Elrond will take Harry into his House or atleast Glorfindel has backed away for him to do so. This was done by popular demand though I was somewhat partial to Glorfindel and breaking the cliche. I guess the cliche exists for a reason and it does provide good Grandma/Grandpa moments with the elves of Lothlorien. Of course now that I gave you Elrond I probably added enough to his persona that you no longer want him to keep Harry. I'm mean like that.

To one reviewer who pointed out the language of elves being more formal and ornate than I was using. I quite agree. It's a challenge to write them as Tolkien does and I let them slip into contractions when they are emotional or away from one of the realms and certainly the younger elves are less formal that the elder elves. You'll note that Galadriel is the most elagant speaker I've written yet. Or at least she is supposed to be. I'm constantly editting this story as I write it and when it's done I'll repost the editted chapters and hopefully time will improve my elves' vocabulary and grammer.

For those waiting for an update on my other story it will be out within a day or say as well.

Ideas, questions, comments, want to send more motivation? Please Review


	10. The Great Library of Imladris

The Power of Magic and Elves

Disclaimer: Bah... still not mine. I really want a little griffin cub.. she's so cute.

Chapter 10: The Great Library of Imladris

Harry awoke the next morning in a new room. The room was large, airy and white. There was a window to his left and he could see trees and snow dusting the branches as it fell gently from the skies. Cera lay on the floor near him still asleep. He couldn't remember coming into this room. He must have fallen asleep on the ride back to Imladris. He pushed back the covers from the bed.

The splint on his leg had been readjusted and the muscles were stiff and sore from overuse the day before. Even still he got up and wandered about the room. There was a wardrobe against the wall made of dark wood and intricately carved with graceful sweeping designs. Closer inspection showed that it held the clothes he had searched through the day before. Though judging by the pile there were several additions. Most of them were more intricate than he cared for with gold or silver stitching on the hems and sleeves. Finery never had a place in his life. Still he picked out a fairly plain green robe. It would be a good time to explore this place and find the library again.

A knock on the door interrupted his exploration of the room and woke Cera from her sleep. The griffin stretched comically, lengthening her body and stretching her head out in a huge yawn. Shaking his head at her antics Harry opened the door and stepped back.

"Good morning, Faervel." Elrond said standing in the doorway.

"Good morning, Lord Elrond." Harry replied wondering where this conversation was going to go.

"How do you feel this morning, little one?" Elrond asked.

"I'm fine" Was Harry's automatic reply. He'd lost count of the number of times he had said that.

Elrond lifted a single eyebrow at that response. He was beginning to think it was the only he would ever get for that inquire.

"You should stay off of that leg as much as you can. You stressed the breaks yesterday." Elrond said. "If starts to hurt let me know and I'll get you something for it."

Harry nodded his head.

"Sit down Faervel" Elrond said motioning toward the bed as he took a seat in the single chair in the room.

Harry complied and sat waiting expectantly.

Elrond glanced out the window. It had started snowing last night just as they arrived in Imladris. He had brought the elfling to this room in the wing that housed his family. He needed to find a way to breach of the topic of Faervel joining his family.

"You told Estel that your parents had died. Do you have family somewhere that we could find for you?" Elrond asked gently. He wasn't sure he'd give the elfling over even if he said yes. Any family that allowed him to become like this didn't deserve him.

"No" Was all Harry answered. His only living family was the Dursleys and Elrond certainly would not be able to find them.

"Can I stay in Rivendell, at least for a little while?" Harry asked. He might not want their protection and attention but that library was a valuable resource and despite himself he trusted a few of the elves here and Aragorn. Or at least he trusted them as much as he trusted any member of the Order.

Elrond looked up sharply at him and Harry grew worried. He didn't think Elrond would cast him out of Rivendell. Perhaps he would put conditions on his staying here. Was the elf angry with him for going into the forest?

"I would never make you leave this place Faervel." Elrond said solemnly.

Harry sighed in relief. He knew very little of this world and needed time to learn of it.

"I know you don't have family but I would like to bring you into my family. I'd like to adopt you." Elrond said.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but wasn't sure what to say and closed it. In his head he was a twenty-year old wizard that knew he couldn't accept this. He did not need a guardian or protection once he could figure out the world he had been dumped into. Adoption would give Elrond far too much control over him and wouldn't allow him to do what he needed if Elrond disagreed. But in his heart was a miserable little boy who curled up in the cupboard day after day wishing he had a family that loved him. His heart wanted to accept and let Elrond and his family sooth away the pain of rejection and ridicule, of death and torture that he had harbored since he had been left on the Dursley's doorstep. His head screamed at him that such a thing was folly. He couldn't even tell Elrond about his past.

Cera seemed to sense his maelstrom of emotions and lay her head on his lap. She would help him when he could not speak of his past and stand by him even when he wanted to leave this place. He stroked her feathered head.

"I don't think I can." Harry replied and watched as Elrond eyes narrowed in confusion. "I can't remember ever having a family." 'Sorry Sirius' he thought to himself. The Dursleys didn't count and he was a guest at the Weasleys however much Mrs. Weasley cared for him. And Sirius, he was supportive and cared but only through letters.

"I don't know how you were separated from the Elves or when you lost your parents but the Elves treasure their young. We would never let you be hurt as you were." Elrond said trying to get the elfling to understand that he was safe and protected now. That he could rely on someone other than himself and it was safe to do so.

"Come, breakfast is waiting and we can discuss this later." Elrond said and moved towards Faervel to help support his weight knowing the elfling would be loath to let him carry him as much as he wanted to help him.

* * *

Memories, sights, sounds and smells assailed him that had no place at the table. He fought his body's desire to tremble and whimper. He could only stare ahead blankly as he fought to master his mind. 

Elrond had brought him out to eat with his family and several other elves of Imladris. The elves had watched him curiously until Elrond shot a hard glare at them. Now they just stole the occasional worried glance.

Elrond surreptitiously placed bread and fall fruits in front of him. "Try to eat something Faervel. It will get better." The elf told him and slowly placed a ring adorned hand on his shoulder. Harry would have expected the contact to make it worse but some of the tension bled out of him.

Harry tired to eat some of it and managed a little bread and a slice of an apple. He had to change his reaction to the sight and smell of food. His head knew they weren't going to hurt him or make do anything in order to eat but he couldn't stop the memories and barely edged out the phantom pain. He forced himself to eat another slice of the apple and gave up for the day,

"Can I go? Please?" Harry begged quietly to Elrond.

"You may go. This will get better and I will help you want me to. Try to rest today Faervel." Elrond allowed.

Harry quickly stood and turned from the table knowing several pairs of eyes were following and for once not caring.

In the hallway he learned against the wall trying to use occulmency to clear his mind. Eventually he became a little more composed set off to find the library with Cera again at his side.

* * *

"Why did you bring him down here, Father?" Elrohir asked Elrond. 

"If he is strong enough to go out to find that creature, than he is strong enough to begin to heal more than just his physical wounds." Elrond replied to his son.

"You knew he wouldn't eat anything here." Glorfindel pointed out.

"I know. But we cannot keep him isolated. It will not help him any longer." Elrond said his eyes following the path the elfling took out of the room.

"Someone will need to show him around." Elrond said. "and introduce him to the guards so that will recognize him and stop him if he wanders out again." Elrond added.

"Elrohir and I will do that. Right 'Ro?" Said Elladan with a mischievous look on his face.

"No tricks and leave the cook alone." Elrond said.

"Yes, father." Elladan chirped in agreement and took that as his cue to leave the table in search of a certain young elf.

"And Erestor" Elrond added quickly. Elrohir follow his twin a bit more reluctantly.

* * *

One left turn and a long corridor later and Harry had found the Great Library of Rivendell. It was an airy room quite unlike the Hogwarts library. There were scrolls and tomes lining walls. There were frescos painted on the walls; one depicting a battle scene occupied an entire side of the first room. There were statues and weapons, realms and circlets of silver so bright they seemed to be made of the moon itself. It was a tribute to the past more than a library. 

"Well Cera, I wonder where Hermione would start." He whispered to the griffin.

Cera cocked her head in almost a canine fashion, turned to face her head away from the books and plopped down on the floor utterly in contempt of the knowledge and history she was currently turning her backend to. She completed the move with an annoyed flip of her tail.

"No Cera, that's were Ron would start." He replied with a laugh. It felt good to laugh. He hadn't since Fred and George's drunken reenactment of their battle with McNair that seemed more of a comedy routine complete with prat falls on banana peels more than a battle for life and death. Of course any battle that took place in the storeroom of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes would be unique if nothing else.

Harry wandered along amid the antiquities on display instead of going for the scrolls and books. He doubted this would have been Hermione's choice but such things tell a story of their own and these were deemed important enough to collect and display in such a fashion. He stopped in front of the large fresco. It depicted a terrible battle of men, elves and dwarves against a force of dark creatures, and men. He wondered what started this war.

"It is the Battle of Dargolad and the victory of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men." A voice from behind him informed him.

Startled he turned to see who had spoken. Harry hadn't heard anyone coming up to him which was unusual but the elves seemed to have a way of moving silently. It was Elladan who gave a name to the events on the wall. Satisfied that his pursuer wouldn't harm him he turned back to the painting and his thoughts.

"And what caused the war?" He asked after a time.

"Betrayal and corruption" Elladan answered succinctly and grew quiet gazing at the painting in thought.

"But come! Now is not a time for the tales of history and war but for exploring and fun." Elladan said quickly putting away his pensive mood.

"Perhaps he'd rather hear the story Elladan. We don't all have your thirst for trouble." Elrohir said he had apparently been left behind by his quick moving twin.

"Nonsense. It is our duty to show him around and tales won't accomplish that." Elladan said seemingly excited to show the elfling around Rivendell.

Harry knew defeat when he saw it and turned from the painting. Perhaps he'd ask Elrohir later to elaborate on the 'betrayal and corruption' Elladan mentioned. After all don't most wars start with either or both?

"Alright if you can show how not to get lost around the corners of this place I'll be glad." Harry answered. It was probably the most words he spoken so far.

The next several hours found Harry very lost and relying on the twins' to get him back to the few corridors he had mapped out.

Elladan and Elrohir took Harry to the courtyard and the training yards. It was still snowing. He saw the hall of fire and the halls of healing. A place he had already spent more time in than he would like. Along the way they introduced him to several elleths that approached them with toys that they had made for him. Harry cheeks pinked in embarrassment and according to the elleths he was adorable. This did not help his embarrassment at all. The twins also stopped many of the guards to introduce him. Going into the forest would not be as easy next time. The guard's eyes seemed to follow them through the courtyard and back into the house, increasing his paranoia and sense of being captive here. Now they were headed to the kitchens though he would prefer to stay away from them.

Elladan and Elrohir had other ideas.

Elrohir disappeared looking for someone while Elladan pointed to a small wooden table and chair.

"Go have a seat Faervel. You need to eat something. I know you didn't eat much this morning. Besides you'll want to stay on Elhadril's good side." Elladan said moving stealthily to steal a few pastries since Elhadril wasn't watching.

Elrohir reappeared with Elhadril who set out a bowl of soup and some bread in front of him. "I'm glad to meet you little one. And don't listen to the tales these two will tell you. Come down whenever you like." Elhadril told him. "Now eat little one."

"We never got an open invitation like that." Elladan taunted Elhadril.

"You gave yourself one always coming to steal my pastries." She said pointing at the half pastry left in Elladan's hand. "And you never came half staved into this place." She added quietly.

Harry was a little uncomfortable eating by himself even with Elladan's banter. He also wasn't very hungry. He'd never had much of an appetite and recent events hadn't helped.

"Oh don't mind them." Elrohir said sitting beside him with an apple in his hand. "This is what Elladan does for fun and Elhadril is good enough to accommodate him." He took a bite of his apple. "You do need to eat though Faervel or you'll not recover your strength."

Harry nodded. It was true. He was already tired and his leg hurt. He ate the bread and soup without comment.

"Besides you'll want to be awake tonight. We'll take you down to the Hall of Fire and you can hear those tales Elladan was too energetic to tell."

Harry forced himself to finish the soup and bread.

"Thank you Elhadril" He said.

"You are welcome Faervel. Come back and see me even if you just want to get away from these twins." She said with a smile.

Harry smiled in return though he didn't think he come back much.

"Come on. Back to your room so you can rest until tonight." Elrohir said.

Harry followed obediently, limping heavily until they reached the door to the room he had woken up in that morning.

"This will is your room now." Elrohir told him. "Mine and Elladan's are just across the hall there." He said pointing out two doors next to each other. "Estel's room is next to yours and our fathers is at the end of the hall." He added pointing to the last door beyond the one they stood in front of.

"If need one of us just come." Elladan finished for his twin.

Apparently Elrond hadn't waited to ask about bring him into his family before putting him there. His room was between Aragorn's and Elrond's.

"We will come for you tonight. Perhaps we can convince Glorfindel to sing." Elladan said opening the door and urging him past it.

Harry removed his shoes and lay down on the bed. Cera had followed them and was sitting beside him now. Harry rested for awhile but couldn't bring himself to sleep. Cera nudged him ruffled her feathers.

"I know I promised you, girl. But I don't have the tools yet. I'll make it someday soon." He conceded and Cera gave him as menacing a glare as a griffin can. "I can't sleep. Let's go Cera."Knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep until he was exhausted he left the room again to find the library.

* * *

Harry had come back to the library intent on discovering the cause of the battle he had seen depicted earlier. Elladan's answered was annoying in its brevity. The text he could find near the scene was not in a tongue he could read and many of the other scrolls seemed not to be in elvish script either though some certainly were. Delayed in learning about his world, he got ensnared in examining the large painting again. 

"Faervel?" Elrond approached him carrying a small cup.

"Lord Elrond" he responded, turning to see him. At least he had heard the elven Lord's approach.

"I believe this is where my sons found you earlier." Elrond said looking at the painting as well.

"Elrohir noticed your leg hurting you. They expected you were resting in your room." Elrond said not looking away from the depiction of the battle portrayed in front of them. "Here." He said handing over the cup. "If you do not tell us when you are hurting we cannot help you."

"I'm sorry. I'm not accustomed to looking for help." Harry said honestly. Helping him got others killed. Still, he drained the contents of the cup.

"I know." Elrond responded. He returned his attention to the painting the elfling was still studying. "What has caught your attention enough to lead you back to this painting?" He asked curious.

"I asked Elladan how the battle started. He said the war started with betrayal and corruption." Harry said recalling the part those things had to play in the war that he fought. He also recalled how that war ended. "How did the war end?" Perhaps this one ended better.

Elrond sighed delving into his own memories and with a graceful hand sought out the elves and men he knew well in that battle. "Gil-galad and Elendil fought Sauron till he fell, though they perished in the act. Elendil son, Isildur picked up his father's broken sword and cut the ring from Sauron's hand. And without it, Sauron's power broke and peace returned to the land. Thus began the third age of this world."

"And Sauron's ring?" Harry asked. Was this what was mentioned the other day?

"I and Círdan counseled Isildur to destroy it but he kept the ring. It eventually betrayed Isildur to his death. And the ring fell into the Great River and was lost." Elrond finished his tale.

Harry stifled a yawn. "Thank you for telling me." He said; glad to receive a better answer than Elladan's.

"You are welcome. My son's brevity, while true enough is not very specific." Elrond commented, watching the elfling yawn. "The events that led to that war are many and the full telling is long. Ask again when he is less wanting to move about this place."

Harry could barely keep his eyes open now but he was alert enough to realize that something in the tea he had just drunk was causing to be so very tired. He aimed a weak glare at Elrond.

"Come. I am surprised you lasted this long. You need to rest and stay off of that leg for the rest of the day." Elrond replied and helped him back to his room and waited until he stubbornly couldn't hold off sleep any longer.

* * *

True to their word, the twins with Aragorn woke and brought him to the Hall of Fire. It was dark out now and the Hall was lit only with a massive fire dancing beneath the hearth. Elves walked about or sat listening to the tales being sung. 

Harry stayed in the shadows out of sight and settled into a chair beside Aragorn and near the Fire. A song was just ending and he could see Elladan and Elrohir talking and gesturing to Glorfindel.

The blond elf stood to begin a song. Apparently the twins had convinced him to sing without Harry's help.

As the song was ending Aragorn broke his silence.

"It is lay of Lúthien." He said

"It is a good tale." Harry said with a peaceful smile.

"Most would call it sad." Aragorn replied not expecting the elfling to think otherwise of the tale.

"Why? Because she died? She and Beren were able to live out their lives together and found peace in the end." Harry replied.

Aragorn wasn't sure how to reply to that. In a way he agreed but it wouldn't be him giving up an immortal life.

"I wanted to come today when the twins showed you Rivendell but had to meet with a few of the guards." Aragorn said.

The singing continued and Harry replied "They showed me courtyard and the training yards and the kitchens."

"Ah, so you met Elhadril. Just stay on her good side and you'll be fine." Aragorn spoke with a smile and a laugh.

"That's what Elrohir said." Harry replied. "I found the Library without their help though." Harry glanced over at Aragorn. Perhaps he could teach him the language that some of the scrolls were written in since it didn't seem to be elvish. "When you first found me you spoke another language or several. Could you teach me one?"

"I didn't know you were an elf when I found you. I spoke in the common tongue and the tongues of man. But yes, I can teach you if you wish." Aragorn answered remembering the day he had discovered the horribly injured elfling that he had wanted to help.

"Do you like Rivendell? I brought you here when you could do little to alter our path." Aragorn asked. "You certain look better than you did then."

"When you found me I didn't think I would live much longer." Harry paused and looked around him. "But I think I like this place." The music and atmosphere were causing him to say more than he would have otherwise. "Everyone seems to watch me here though and it makes me feel like I'm trapped again. Lord Elrond says he wants to help me. But he'll want to know what happened to me and I cannot tell him that. He wants me to join his family. I can't remember being part of a family. I don't know how."

Aragorn wasn't entirely surprised by what he heard but he was surprised that the elfling had said so much. "Then let us teach you."

* * *

A/N: At least it didn't take as long this time. I've also got the next several chappies all nicely outlined and waiting to be filled in. For anyone worrying, this fic won't be abandoned. It will however be long .

I thank all my reviewers for the motivation to get this out. I really liked the 18 wheeler's load of motivation. It was suggested to make Harry an animagus and I was trying to decide whether or not to go there. If you'd like him to be an animagus please suggest a form. And no, he isn't going to be a phoenix or a griffin. A phoenix makes things too easy. As for a griffin, one is enough though that could have solved Cera lonliness in a whole different kind of way...

Oh.. and kudoos to those who caught the _half_ of a bird's nest on the stone troll being a bit of a joke from me. You keep asking about the timeline and I try to give hints without telling you the year. So... we are exactly however long it takes for that bird's nest to be completed and abandoned again from the point in which Sam, Frodo, Merry and Pippen find Old Mr. Bilbo's trolls.

Got comments, questions, ideas for an animagus or otherwise, or motivation for me to post the next chapter? Please Review

Coming soon:

Chapter 11: The Free Peoples of Middle-Earth


	11. The Free Peoples of Middle Earth

The Power of Magic and Elves

Disclaimer: Not mine... Well maybe Cera and her invisible green collar. Green to blend with the elves of course.

Chapter 11: The Free Peoples of Middle Earth

Winter was passing slowly. Harry spent most of his time in the library or with Aragorn. The common speech of Middle-Earth he discovered to be a bit like Latin and he often found himself guessing Latin words when he couldn't remember the word he was searching for. Aragorn and the rest had a few laughs at his 'invented' words. Aragorn had informed the twins that he was teaching him the common tongue and they insisted on speaking in it to confuse him or as they said "give him practice".

The rest of his time he spent in the library. Harry poured over old books and scrolls in a Hermione-like fashion. He read about the dwarves and their halls of stone. They seemed the miners and craftsmen of Middle-Earth. Dwarves were a stout race that loved the stone and tunnels of the mountains. He wondered if they also hoarded gold as they seemed a bit like the Goblins of Gringotts.

He read about man and the Numenorians. He learned about the race of kings and their fall and exile from their city. He learned of Gondor and Rohan and how each had suffered without the race of kings to guide them. Prejudice and suspicion seemed prevalent in the race of men but wasn't absent from the other free peoples of middle earth either. It was these same qualities that had bred Voldemort an army. As the sorting hat had said so many years ago they needed to unite or suffer.

Finally he read about elves and their history on Middle-Earth and beyond. He felt like a muggle-raised wizard again learning about the people and culture he had just joined. He was just beginning to accept that he was now part of an immortal race. How ironic that Voldemort would chase immortality only to be killed by a wizard who was granted immortality and didn't desire it. This race, however, wasn't buried in a world he already knew. The elves had long lives on middle earth and even longer memories.

He had found a passage about the elven lands west of Middle-Earth. The undying lands sounded idyllic. It must be what heaven is like, full of people who never grow old and never die. Where elves meet loved one who had sailed many years ago. Where one can be healed from the weariness of the world. The elves only truly mourned for those who passed through to Mandros's halls never to return or reunite with loved ones. It would be perfect if only this land could also hold the wizards and witches he had failed to save before coming to middle earth. If only he could look forward to sailing one day knowing Sirius and all his friends and family were waiting for him.

Information on Sauron and the ring Elrond had spoken of had come from long conversations with the twins since they had mentioned the war first. His curiosity was natural and Elladan and Elrohir answered his questions and made certain to never speak so shortly on a piece of history if they did not wish his inquisition.

Harry closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. The more he studied in this library the more he realized he needed to learn. This place had a long history and elves had recorded much of it. But the elves weren't the most efficient of writers. They preferred stories and grandly told histories more than logically organized and categorized facts. There was no compendium of the magic of elves or a time line listing the major events in the history of man. He had to sort through drawn out tales and decipher fact from embellishment. His lack of noticeable progress plagued him. His inability to learn what he needed to learn quickly had cost the light side lives. Nightmares assailed him again. This time it was Aragorn, Glorfindel and Elrond who died because he couldn't defeat his advisory quickly enough. When he woke from the nightmares he came back to the library and sometimes he simply didn't leave at night. What was the point when he'd be back again shortly? His conscience carved extra graves for his elven friends besides those of Ron, Hermione, Remus, Albus and the wizards of England.

He needed to start recording his dealings with the horcruxes and find a way to share that knowledge with someone who could use it. Once he had done that his part would be done. He could rest and enjoy his time here blending into the life in Rivendell.

Finding a way for it to be used wouldn't be easy. The elves had a magic of their own but it was elusive and hard to define. Some of them had a form of mind magic which must have allowed Elrond to pass over his use of legilimency. Otherwise their powers dealt with the natural world. They could create rockslides and floods but their magic would not allow them to destroy the horcruxes in the same manner that he had. Or at least he didn't think it would. He took a little time to concentrate on his own magic and found it unchanged. He was certain he could perform all the magic he had been able to perform before he had lost height and gained pointy ears in this very different world.

However, there were wizards on Middle-Earth or Maia as the elves called them. Harry hardly wished to meet one. They could probably tell that he wasn't entirely what the others believed him to be. But perhaps they could use the information on horcruxes if he left it in the library for them. Even they may not be able to make use of it though. Their magic, though more diverse than the elves, was not as all-purpose as the magic that Hogwarts taught. He rested his head in his hands.

"Back again?" A voice asked from behind him.

Harry spun in his seat knocking the book he had been looking at to the edge of the table where it hung precariously. It was Elrond.

"I couldn't sleep." He said in reply.

"You've spent many nights in this library. I was going to set up a schedule for you learn what you should know. Erestor even volunteered to teach you but if I offer you any encouragement in your studies I don't believe you would ever leave this place." Elrond said softly. "What is driving you to learn like this? You will make yourself ill if you don't stop to eat and sleep, Faervel." He added moving to rescue the book and closing it.

Harry reached out for the book and Elrond shot his a sharp reprimanding look.

Harry bowed his head sheepishly at the silent admonishment and replied. "I don't know. There's just so much that I don't understand about this place and I like to learn."

"And learning is fine, but not at the sake of your health. You are pale and drawn, Faervel. If you don't rest I will find a room for you back in the halls of healing and you will rest there." Elrond warned.

"I just can't" Harry whispered half to himself.

"Can't what?"

He had forgotten about elvish hearing they were worse than werewolves. "I can't sleep. I keep having nightmares." He admitted. He still hadn't told them about his past. Not that he could and he didn't want to create one and lie to them.

"It would help if you talked to us about it. You always change the subject when we ask about what happened to you. I understand you don't want to remember it but we need to know. If there is someone out there capturing elflings and children to torture them as they did you then they have to be stopped." Elrond said. For once he was willing to push the subject. It was interfering with the health of his charge.

"They won't capture anyone again. Someone came and killed them all. The others they captured were already dead." Harry said in a monotone voice. There was no one left. No one the Death Eaters would want to capture and no Death Eaters left to capture them. Both sides had lost in the end.

"If you want to talk I will listen." Elrond sighed. He had wondered how the elfling had gotten free from his captures. "Go to bed Faervel."

Harry followed. He still needed something to write about the horcruxes in. "I can't talk about it. But can I…"

"Can you what?" Elrond said hopefully. The elfling hadn't made many requests other than asking Aragorn to teach him the common tongue.

"Could I have something to write in?" Harry asked looking up at Elrond in hope.

"Of course. I'll have some parchment bound for you." Elrond replied. Perhaps if the elfling wrote about what had happened his nightmares would lessen.

Elrond followed him to the room he had been given and waited until he was in bed and appeared asleep.

The next morning Harry found that Elrond had kept his promise. A blank book lay in his room with a quill and a pot of ink. He sat and rested on his bed for a moment planning out how he would share the information he had.

Decent Wizarding society had no information on horcruxes. He often wondered where Slughorn had ever come across the limited information he had had on the subject. One couldn't exactly walk into Flourish and Blotts and ask for a book on a subject that was considered the darkest of the dark arts. However, Harry wasn't naive enough at the age of 11 to believe that all of Wizarding society was decent.

Polyjuice potion had become a staple of the war to the point that even Ron could brew it. Disguised as Death Eaters, the three of them had plundered about Knockturn alley and other less well known establishments looking for information on soul splitting. It was Ron who found the most useful book. It was oddly enough located in a second-hand book store just a few shops into Knockturn Alley. It was falling apart, tattered and untitled. But that book gave step-by-step instruction on how to create a horcrux. It also detailed the weakness of them and the advantages and disadvantages of placing them in particular objects. Apparently, Voldemort's diary was an extremely poor choice. Only Nagini was a worse one. The Gaunt ring that had so weakened Dumbledore had been the best. This was the closest they would ever come to instructions on how to destroy a horcrux.

Harry wasn't sure if this Sauron had made more than one Horcrux or changed the ritual to add to its effects but he could at least detail what he knew.

His plan in place Harry worked through the morning.

The walls of the room were feeling a bit cell-like by now and he got up to stretch, hide the book and take a walk. He vowed the book would be completed in the coming months though.

Noticing that he was leaving his solitary activity Cera was instantly by his side. Harry headed out to the courtyard and looked longingly into the woods. Snow had fallen during the night and Rivendell was blanketed in nearly a foot of white snow. Several elves at work around the city seemed to make excuses to walk through the courtyard and enjoy the snow. He wondered if Middle-Earth ever had snowball fights. Conscious of the guards' ever present gaze he moved only to the first few trees and leaned his back against one.

He could appreciate the elves wanting to help him and keep him safe but he only wanted to disappear into this world. The trees were quiet and nonintrusive. He could only wish the elves would be as well.

Apparently that was not to be as he heard footfalls behind him.

"What are you doing out here, Faervel?" Glorfindel asked.

He liked Glorfindel. The blond elf was comfortable with silences and more accepting than most would be. He liked the other elves as well, but he liked quiet and solitude more. The deaths of so many witches, wizards and muggles weighted too heavily on him for him to forget that world. Participating in this one seemed an insult to their memories. As though he was ignoring them and his world completely. As if it never existed.

"It's quiet out here and tree aren't as watchful as elves." He said with a slight smile that Glorfindel returned.

"I remember a winter when Elladan was young, perhaps your age in fact, swearing that he wanted to be mortal so he would already be old enough that he wouldn't have to endure another 150 winters' worth of his father's coddling."

Harry's mind had ground to a halt. He had estimated his age approximately 7 or 8 human years based on his height. Apparently that doesn't translate at all into elven ages. The immortality of the elves and of himself was suddenly much clearer than ever before. This wasn't the same as reading it out of a book.

"Of course Elrond wasn't very happy with Elladan's wish and subsequent escape into the forest. I think Elladan learned his lesson well enough by the time his father and the guards found him freezing below a tree. He got caught in a snow storm. It took Elrond two week to nurse his son back to health after that. "

The objective of this wasn't lost on Harry. Here he was, apparently, a young elfling, sitting beneath a tree in the middle of winter. The parallels weren't hard to catch.

"I understand what you're trying to say Glorfindel. But I am not Elladan nor am I Elrond's son." He replied.

"Are you not? He would have as his son. In fact, he regards as his own even if you do not and you will not stop him from caring for you and worrying when you become so distant. He only wants to help you." Glorfindel insisted.

"Him and every other elf in Rivendell." Harry said in a rare moment of exasperation.

"Can you remember ever living among elves?" The blonde asked him leaning against the young elf's tree.

"No. Not like this." Harry replied.

"They watch, Faervel, because they want to help you and protect you. The elves treasure their young beyond jewels, wealth or knowledge." Glorfindel explained. "They are appalled that you were hurt as you were and it saddens them to see you still hurting. They would like nothing more than to avenge you and see you happy here. But you fear them and avoid them so they do the only thing they can: they watch and hope that one day you'll let them comfort you."

"But why me? There are many elves here there must be other elflings. Why are they so interested in me?" Harry asked a bit of his frustration seeping into his voice.

"Other elflings?" Glorfindel laughed. "There are no other elflings in all of Middle Earth and one hasn't been born in many centuries. If you would allow them to, they would each bundle you up and steal you into their homes to spoil you until you were grown. I'm afraid you will have to tolerant of their attentions for a great many years yet." Glorfindel added with a glint in his eyes that Harry could only compare to Dumbledore at his worst.

Seeing the disgusted look on the elfling's face, Glorfindel laughed aloud. "Come now, we are elves Faervel. The years don't age us as they do men."

Both elves silently looked out over the quiet trees blanketed in melting snow.

"I didn't come out here to warn you or discuss the lack of elflings in Middle Earth, Faervel. There are other dangers in Middle Earth."

"The orcs?" Harry guessed.

Glorfindel looked at him surprised.

"I read about them." He offered as explaination. After overhearing Elrond and his family discuss them he had learned everything he could about them only to confirm his original Crabb and Goyle-like opinion of them.

"Of course. I'd like to teach you to fight. To survive if you ever come across them or anyone you need to protect yourself from." The blonde said seriously as he produced two blunted practice swords. He handed one to the elfling waiting for him to take it.

Harry stared at the sword. He had killed with a sword. He had killed in many ways. Mad-eye Moody had locked them both inside the Room of Requirement once during his seventh year and declared that he wouldn't let him out of the room until he could perform the Killing curse. He had resisted at first and refused to cast the curse. It was an unforgivable for a reason. It took a lot of hate to cast and there were other ways to kill. Unfortunately nothing else was unblockable. Moody had yelled and taunted him for hours before he would even speak the words but eventually Moody won out. But not here. He wasn't a savior here and he wouldn't fight again.

"I... I don't want to fight." He said and looked away from sword and elf.

"You have to be able to protect yourself, Faervel. Sometimes there is no other way to survive." Glorfindel asserted. He wasn't backing down. This elfling wasn't going to be hurt again. He moved in front of the elfling his glowing with his conviction that he would teach this young elf to protect himself. He pushed the training sword in the elfling's hand and brought his own forward. "Sometimes there is no other way to stay free." Glorfindel hated to use the elfling's past in such a way but something had to convince him.

Harry studied the sword for a second remembering the weight of Gryffindor's blade that Albus had eventually given him. Glorfindel was moving the second sword toward him.

"I won't fight." Harry said as he dropped the blunted sword and stepped around the elf's slow swing. He moved to walk further into the silent trees when Glorfindel's voice stopped him.

"Please Faervel, just tell me why you don't want to learn?" the blond elf implored.

"I don't want to kill anymore." He answered forgetting that Glorfindel would be a more a little confused by that answer.

"Alright. Why don't you head down to the kitchen and I'll put the swords away and meet you there." Glorfindel replied.

"Okay." He knew this conversation wasn't over but maybe something would distract it.

He made his way to the kitchen now more accustomed to the smells and taste of food again. He still ate little.

"Good day Elhadril." He called into the room. It smelled of warm baking breads and cinnamon.

"Ah, good day Faervel. Hungry are you?" The lively elf asked. "Come sit with me for awhile. I even saved a few pastries from Elladan's raid this morning."

Harry grinned and moved to a scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen. Elhadril and he had become friends much the way he had been friends with Hagrid, though her cooking was infinitely better. Like Hagrid, she also seemed to know what was happening in Rivendell and often shared that information with him even if perhaps she hadn't meant to. Still, she never pushed him to talk about anything but was capable of talking about nothing for hours on end and always managed to make him smile.

"He wouldn't really steal all your pastries would he?" Harry asked with an impetuous grin. Elladan would do such a thing.

"Only if I let him." She said and leaned in as if to share some dire secret. "Don't you tell him but I have a secret stash of them saved behind the canisters."

"I promise." He said and took a pastry to eat.

"Good. If someone raids them I'll know exactly who to blame." Elhadril said. Not she would blame him if he ate them. She always pushed him to eat more.

The door to the kitchen burst open and Elladan came in trying to evade his brother who was dripping wet and had snow caked in the braids of his hair. Elrohir also carried a great ball of snow which was most likely the object of Elladan's evasion.

"Come on Faervel. Help me get away from Elrohir. He means to cover me in snow." Elladan announced dramatically.

"Only because he covered me first." Elrohir said.

So Middle-Earth did have snowball fights.

"Not in my kitchen." Elhadril shouted over the twin's taunts. "Out with you. Both of you, out now!" She said watching the snow drip water on her floors.

"Save me Faervel. Please?" Elladan begged.

"I am more inclined to help Elrohir. But it looks like he's doing fine on his own." Harry replied with a grin and followed the twins out of the kitchen.

After a thorough soaking of Elladan, the three ganged up to ambush Aragorn with fresh snowballs.

They returned to Rivendell in the middle of day soaked, cold and ready to rest for awhile.

"He seems to be settling in well." Elrond commented as he watched his twin sons and Faervel tossing snowballs at Aragorn.

"Yes, he has. Though he still refuses to say much about his past." Glorfindel replied. "He also spends more time alone in the library than you would wish."

"He is very self-contained. He will speak with Elhadril and my sons and ourselves but avoids contact with everyone else." Elrond admitted.

"He avoids us as well much of the time." Glorfindel added. Most elflings would have sought out the attention of the elves around them but Faervel waited for one of them to come to him. The elves could still only speculate on what had happened to him. "The others leave him be only on your request but they still watch him with sadness in their eyes."

"Indeed they do."

"The spring will come arrive before long. Galadriel won't be content to leave Faervel be. She will push him to tell her of his past." Glorfindel commented.

"Yes, and she will be here before he is ready for that. "

The two elves continued watching for a time.

"I took training swords out to him earlier." Glorfindel said softly after a pause, capturing Elrond attention as the Lord of Rivendell frowned.

"He refused to learn how to wield a sword."

"Did he say why?" Elrond asked.

"Only that he didn't want to kill anymore." Glorfindel said, still confused at that reply.

"I wonder who he has faught and killed. Orcs perhaps? Or the Men who took him?" Elrond muttered to himself recalling another conversation.

"And what of the orcs, will you continue to merely watch as they move ever closer to Rivendell?" Glorfindel said sharply.

"I know your opinion Glorfindel. For now we will wait and we will watch." Elrond replied softly.

"Then Faervel must be trained he escapes to the trees too often and the trees are not as safe as they once were." Glorfindel muttered to himself.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews and kind words. I disliked this chapter for quite awhile until I changed the order of some of the scenes. Hopefully I'll get better at that sort of thing as I write more. Honestly this was a bit of a filler chapter but spring is coming and with it the elves of Lothlorien. 

For those wanting to know how old the elves pictured Harry to be, I hope this chapter gave you some ideas. There will be more action coming up and well as Harry wand and eventually his animagus form. Thank you for all ideas and the support.

Please feel free to leave a review or a suggestion.


	12. Spring Clears the Mountain Pass

The Power of Magic and Elves

Disclaimer: Sigh... still not mine...

Chapter 12: Spring Clears the Mountain Pass

Glorfindel must have recruited help as Aragorn, Elladan and Elrohir all approached him to teach him to fight with swords, knives and a bow and arrows. But each time his reply was the same and he turned away from them. He had to hand it to them though. They were becoming more creative in their persuasion. This morning he had come across the twins fighting with swords and mocking each other. Somehow he could imagine the marauders having duels in much the same fashion.

He could understand Glorfindel's desire to teach him to fight. The elf didn't know that he could defend himself with magic if he had to. He had been right and their conversation had carried into the kitchen the other day. He had admitted to having had to kill his captures in order to get away. The elf had dropped the subject after that and agree to not try until he wanted to learn.

He had leaned against and tree and watched Elrond's twins in their irreverent fight but left before they turned their attention to him. His walks into the woods were becoming longer and more frequent.

This time however, it wasn't Glorfindel or one of Elrond's sons that had driven him into the shelter of the trees however. Cera had finally worn him down. How the griffin managed to make puppy eyes so effectively with an eagle head he couldn't fathom. But he collected the length of wood and stole out to the workshop for a few tools.

After Diagon Alley was attacked Harry, Ron and Hermione had spent a day collecting salvageable items from the streets. Potion ingredients had been the most prized collectables among the vultures that came to the Alley. Most of them were ruined though. Harry had his eyes set on a different prize that day. While Hermione scrounged around for useful books and Ron cast about for weapons and armor, Harry investigated the ruins of Olivanders. The odd little man had moved out previous to the Alley's attack but had left supplies and papers behind. Harry pocketed any spare wand material he could find and tracked down notes Olivander must have made in the creation of his wands. From these Harry had been able to piece together the process of wand construction. His was a crude method to be sure but none of them understood until later how valuable that information would be however simplistic.

With the borrowed tools and supplies he and the griffin walked out to the first few trees outside the city of Imladris. The guards were watching him. They were accustomed to his forays into the woods and wouldn't intervene unless he went too far. The snow was definitely melting now and green grass was poking through the white. He walked until he could sense the guards getting anxious and went only a few paces more before he stopped and laid out his supplies.

Very carefully he used a thin blade to hollow out the core of the holly wood Cera had brought him weeks ago. He collected the shavings on his cloak and covered them to keep the wind from scattering them. The griffin looked on approvingly.

He was still resolved to not use magic, to not stand out or be this world's hero.

"I'm only doing this because you insisted and won't stop with the pouting looks until I do you know." He lectured the griffin. Cera seemed entirely too pleased with herself and unconcerned with his words.

"Well fine, what did you want me to use as a core?" He asked the smug griffin.

Cera promptly got up and lifted the feathers of the crest on her neck. She shook until one golden feather fell out.

Harry arched an eyebrow at the arrogant look on Cera's face and picked up the feather. Carefully he inserted it into the narrow opening in the middle of the wood. This still left the bottom hole to be covered and the core to be absorbed into the wood. He cast a furtive glance back at the guards. None had moved any closer to him but he was being watched.

"Well, hopefully this will be the only magic I do." Harry said softly. He kept his back to the guards and placed his hands along the length of wood, quickly muttered the incantation that pulled heavily at his own magic. Wand creation was not an easy task or one suited to wizards with even average levels of power. In a fashion it blended the creator's magic and the magic of the wand core at an intimate level. Harry was convinced that the hundreds of cores that Olivander had blended himself with had affected the wizard's mind. It did however, lend to his ability to remember the wand any wizard had purchased.

Slowly the golden feather dissolved into the very magic contained within it, leaving a glowing golden powder in the shaft of the wand. This was wand would be more temperamental than his phoenix feather wand but would also allow more brute force to be channeled through it. Much like the differences between a phoenix and a Griffen, it was a wand for fighting and large scale magic; exactly what Harry didn't want to do. Harry took a few second to rest and covered the open end with the shavings fusing them back with the wood.

"I hope you're happy." He directed at the Griffin who did seem immensely happy.

"Faervel?" A voice called out.

Hurriedly, Harry packed away his materials in a sack and tucked his wand into it and buried the sack and its contents in the bush and leaves at the base of the tree. Wand and supplies hidden, he turned to address the owner's voice.

"Hello Aragorn." He called to the man. Aragorn was approaching with a bundle in his hands and something strapped to his back. As the man got closer he could identify the object. It was a bow and the ranger had a quiver of arrows on his back.

"Want to come hunting with me Faervel? I haven't stayed this long of a time in Rivendell since my youth and the warmer weather leaves one seeking the woods. Don't you agree?" Aragorn asked with a warm smile.

"I seem to remember the twins saying you were a terrible shot." Faervel replied arching an eyebrow at the bow.

"I'm not an elf Faervel, I don't have your eyesight. And the twins only remember when I was first learning. I've had many years to practice since then." Aragorn replied in his defense. "Though I could use the help of a pair of elven eyes. Perhaps I can even teach you to shoot before the twins make a mockery of your first attempts as well."

It was a clever offer. Not particularly subtle, but clever. Harry was actually tempted too. Part of him knew he couldn't reject every weapon the elves used. It just wouldn't be normal for him to do so. And he had never used a bow and arrow before.

"Alright. And what we miss Cera can catch." He agreed and shot a smirk at the Griffin he had volunteered to help.

The hunt had gone on for most of the day. Much of the time was taken up with Aragorn teaching him to hold a bow correctly and aim. He wasn't a great shot but his natural talent with weapons and the grace he inherited with his change of species had made him a quick study.

Aragorn was carrying a brace of rabbits only one of which Cera had had to help catch. She had now disappeared as though catching rabbits for them was far beneath her.

The ranger suddenly bent down and motioned for Faervel to follow. Aragorn indicated ahead. There was young buck pawing grazing in the clearing. He had never seen stag before; not that he could remember of course. Sirius said his father had transformed and Sirius had put him on his dad's back and held him while James walked around with him. This is what his father had been able to change into. He smiled.

Aragorn began to string his bow and Faervel looked up at him and laid a hand on Aragorn's arm to stop him. Aragorn was understandably confused but stopped his motion. Faervel just stayed silent and watched until the stag moved on.

"Faervel?" Aragorn asked now that he was ready to move on again.

He looked up. "I'm sorry. I haven't seen one before."

Aragorn didn't seem satisfied with the response but let it go. "It would have been a challenge to get him back to Rivendell anyway."

"Come on. The main path is just up ahead. We'll take that back into Rivendell." Aragorn said breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

They continued walking for some time just enjoying their surroundings. "You were right Aragorn. The spring does seem to come quickly to Rivendell." Harry commented as a few early spring wildflowers had managed to push their way up through the ground.

"Indeed" the man replied. Harry wasn't listening to him though. He had halted and cocked his head to better hear some strange noise coming through the trees. There was someone or something coming up the path they were headed towards.

"What is it?" Aragorn asked concerned at the intensely listening elf.

"Who is coming?" He muttered in reply and moved behind the thickest brush he could find.

"It's nearly spring. The paths through the mountains may have opened early." Aragorn replied watching the elfling's reaction to the approaching noises curiously. "It is probably elves or men coming to visit Lord Elrond." Privately he was certain it was the elves of Lothlórien and they wouldn't be coming to see Elrond.

Aragorn watched as Faervel crept away from him staying in the trees and brush and heading up the road toward the sound the elfling must be hearing.

He was sure it was the elves from Rivendell and Faervel would be safe enough with them around. He had spoken true when Faervel said spring had come early. Galadriel would come to Rivendell as soon as possible. And with her would be Arwen, Elrond's only daughter. Perhaps he would take Faervel's advice from the Room of Fire. People living with love wasn't sad even if they died with it. He would reestablish his relationship with the beautiful elf.

He began walking towards the road to meet them and looked back to see where Faervel had gone. The elfling was just ahead moving parallel to the road. The ranger was amazed when the young elf disappeared from his sight into the cover of the trees. It was a trick that had taken him years to perfect.

"How did he do that?" The man muttered to himself.

It sounded like bells and horses; like music and spring time and stories told before the fire. It reminded him of a potion Slughorn had shown them that smelled different for each person. Even pleasant smelling potions were something to be very wary of. The only pleasant tasting potions were poisons.

Harry didn't know what he was hearing but he was certain he wanted to be able to see it before it saw him. He crept along the side of the road only getting as close as the tree and bush cover would allow.

The sound grew louder and he could see something reflecting or casting light of its own around the bend in the path. There were horses. He could hear their hoof beats providing a base to the tinkling of elvish laughter.

Aragorn had been right. However much comfort that was to him now. It was elves; lots of elves.

Two rode at the head of the procession on white horses. The rest seemed to follow them reverently. The pair had long blonde hair and grey eyes.

One of the pair glanced up and seemed to pin him in place with steely grey eyes.

Harry ducked further back into the bushes and away from the path.

"Welcome to Rivendell." Lord Elrond intoned to the large gathering of grey clad elves from Lothlórien who were being greeted by many elves in the courtyard. He had made rooms available for this group of elves as soon as the snowfall had ended. He knew Galadriel would do anything in her power to pass through the mountains as soon as possible. He had marked Aragorn's return just before the arrival of the grey clad elves and briefly wondered where Faervel was but knowing that elfling he had disappeared before the newcomers' arrival.

His eyes strayed to his daughter who was being helped from her mount by Aragorn as the two greeted one another and walked off hand in hand.

"Grandmother!" Elladan and Elrohir burst into the courtyard from behind Elrond.

"Greetings Elrond." The stately elf at the head of the procession answered before turning to the running dark-haired figures of her grandchildren.

"Ah, Elladan and Elrohir. Your ventures in the wild have matured you I see." Her eyes laughed and a wide smile appeared on her face.

"You will have to tell me of your travels but first I need to speak with Elrond." She leveled her gaze at the Lord of Imladris, eyes no longer laughing.

"Of course my Lady." Elrond replied and gestured her into his home. This would not be a pleasant conversation. He noticed that Celeborn, the less dynamic of the two had not shown an interest in participating in this discussion and remained with Elladan and Elrohir.

Upon entering his study Galadriel closed the door behind them.

"I see little has changed in Rivendell since last we spoke." She commented coldly enough to clearly express her displeasure. "Still permitting an elfling to venture unprotected into the woods, Elrond?"

"I did not know he was still in the forest. Aragorn was with him when they set out." Elrond's brow creased in confusion as to how the two had gotten separated.

"And yet the ranger returns alone." Her stare pierced his through his confusion with anger.

"I know you do not approve of Arwen's relationship…" He began.

"I do not disapprove of my granddaughter's love for the ranger. She will follow her own heart in the end, not ours." She added more lightly.

"And I left Haldir and Rumil to guard the elfling until he returns." She interrupted, ignoring his interpretation of her anger.

Elrond met her eyes in astonishment and fear. Haldir was the marchwarden of Lothlorien and he would not be deterred from his task. Two unknown elves sent to follow Faervel could not end well. He only hoped the elfling would return and did not run. What would Haldir do if he did?

They were following him.

He had backed into the cover along the side of the road until he could just barely make out the passing elves and horses. Once they had gone he had left the road and trailed behind them towards Imladris.

Cera had been anxious and alert, swiveling her head from side to side as if to locate a disturbance. Harry sent her into the air and backed into a thick bush of evergreen and concentrated on not being seen, heard or noticed. He held his breath.

There were two of them. Cloaked in grey and carrying swords and bows; they suddenly appeared confused as they scanned the land around them. These must have separated from the recently passing group of elves.

"Where could he have gone, Haldir?" One addressed the other.

"Quiet" the second, Haldir, answered.

They were tracking him? The elves had always seemed to take an unnatural notice of him but this was more than he could tolerate.

He would wait until they left and return to Rivendell without them. The sun was beginning to streak the sky purple and red. It would be easier to travel without their presence by night.

Harry woke the next morning a little later than he intended. During the night he and Cera had snuck into Rivendell without their elven guards. Today he intended to figure out just why they had been followed and who had been doing the following. It seemed naïve to believe that all elves wished him well and wouldn't hurt him despite the reassurances he had been given. Far better to avoid unknowns until he knew more of them.

He made his way to the kitchens; breakfast was sure to be over by now.

"Good morning Elhadril."

"Faervel! Where were you? Half of the house was out looking for you until Elrohir found your tracks coming back. Quiet the commotion you caused." She exclaimed. Her face softened into a smile a second later. She couldn't seem to stay angry with him. "If you want breakfast I'm just sending it out to the hall. Everyone got a late start this morning." She added helpfully.

He approached the dining hall only to hear voices coming from the room.

"It is not so easy to keep a guard around him. As I am sure Haldir and Rumil will attest to."

"Have you at least determined how he came to be in such ill health as he was?"

"He has told us enough to imply that he was captured and tortured for food. We haven't asked him further. He is untrusting and cautious among us."

"He distrusts the Eldar? Surely not"

Harry decided that was enough. One of those voices may well know who had followed him though perhaps the female.

He stepped toward the entrance and stopped. There were more elves here than just the voices he had heard. Elrond's family was there including a dark-haired female elf sitting next to Aragorn that he assumed was Elrond's only daughter Arwen. As usual, Glorfindel and Erestor were included but there were several fair-haired elves sitting in the company as well, including the two blonde elves that had led the group into Rivendell. And they were nothing like Glorfindel. These were stately and cold and seemed far removed from the kindly elvin warrior despite their similarity of appearance. The conversation halted as the group realized he was there. Eyes turned towards him.

The grey eyes of the Lady that had led the procession into Rivendell locked with his own and he could feel his neglected occulmency shields being torn. Harry's eyes widened at the attack and he flinched backwards. He focused on strengthening his shields and trying to break eye contact with the elf. Just as his shields were about to crumble the familiar blonde warrior of Rivendell passed between him and the strange new elf that had captured his gaze. His shoulder's sagged in relief as the attack was broken.

"Glorfindel?" he asked shakily; grateful, though wondering why he had approached.

"Are you well, Faervel?" The elf looked concerned.

Harry just nodded slightly. The blonde elf glanced back at the company of silent and watchful elves. Glorfindel placed himself between him and the other and guided Harry to an empty place at the table beside him.

"She is Galadriel, the Lady of Lothlorien" Glorfindel addressed the unspoken question as they claimed seats at a table separate from Elrond and the leaders of Lothlorien. Conversation restarted but Harry could feel eyes following him.

"We were worried when you didn't come back with Aragorn yesterday. And he couldn't find you once you separated." Glorfindel obviously wanted to know what happened. From the quieting of conversation so did the other elves.

"I heard someone coming down the path toward Rivendell and left Aragorn to see who it was." True enough though it didn't explain why Aragorn, an accomplished tracker, hadn't been able to follow him. The only answer he could find was magic, albeit unintended magic.

"After I saw the elves pass by I started to follow them towards Rivendell but someone was following me and Cera. I heard one of them address the other as Haldir and wonder where I had gone." Also true though it begged a similar question.

"I didn't know who they were or why they were following me so I waited to return until it was dark and they couldn't follow me back." Harry said quietly and without glancing up to the contingent of blonde elves.

"Haldir is the marchwarden of Lothlórien, little one. I asked him to guard you when I saw you beside the road without escort. He would never harm you and you should not be in the woods unprotected." A voice spoke from the head table.

It was the golden haired lady of Lothlórien and Harry while not wanting to be rude refused to look up at her and risk her legimency again. "I'm sorry." It was a response that always worked with the Dursleys.

"You have no need to be sorry, little one. Caution has no doubt helped you before but no elf would harm you." Glorfindel has quietly from his side.

* * *

A/N: I truely thank everyone that has taken the time to review. You've given me some great ideas. I appoligize for not getting this out very quickly. School and life caught up with me and probably will continue to do so. I will not abondon this fic or any other that I start but updates will probably not be regular in coming. If you are follow my other fic as well it will soon be updated too.

Please feel free to leave a review or a suggestion.


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